The Dawn Will Come with Bad Advice
by Revan's split personality
Summary: (Rated M for language) Dawn, an unsuspecting and average woman, is ripped through time and space into a different reality with mages, templars, and giant green tears in the sky. While utterly useless in battle, she has a gift for helping with paperwork and somehow becomes the reluctant counselor of the Inquisition's inner circle.
1. 1: The Beginning

Well. This was painful. Trying to come up with some way to put an OC into the story without it being super boring was more difficult than I thought it would be.  
This isn't the good part, anyway. Needed some sort of setup before jumping into the good bits. Or what I think are the most interesting bits, anyway. Bleh.  
First two chapters are the setup. Things after that are what was initially intended - dialogue-centric, short chapters of character interaction.

A fair warning: this is a sort of self-insert story I'm writing for shits and giggles. Shouldn't end up as a Mary-Sue, since I can fully admit that I'm practically useless, but I'll be damned if some things don't go my way.

* * *

I stood numbly and simply watched as groups of people far more useful than myself started camp fires and set up temporary shelters. Families huddled together under threadbare blankets, trying to keep their faces and hands out of the bitter, cold wind that managed to enter the small mountain pass in occasional gusts.

A blizzard had hit shortly after we had made our way out of Haven, following the directions of a seriously wounded Roderick. A young man named Cole had helped support him the entire way. I had found Roderick to be a rather unlikeable fellow, but it was fortunate he had been there to show us the forgotten path used for pilgrimages years ago or we'd all have been buried under tonnes of mountain rock and rubble in a desperate last stand against the Venatori, their leader, and its dragon. I turned to look at the path we had taken up the mountain. There was nothing but snow and darkness.

I took a moment to sink into a melancholic reflection of the direction my life had taken in the past few weeks.

It had all happened on an otherwise normal day. The weather was nice for a change, so I had decided to go for a walk in the back woods behind my house. There was still a bit of snow, so I threw on a few cold weather essentials and headed out. Then everything had to go to shit.

There was a bright flash of light, and electrical sizzling noise, and the sensation of falling forwards. There was a sharp pain on my forehead when I landed, and darkness. I woke up a few hours later in a jail cell, patched up but imprisoned. After a long and very confusing conversation with two women named Leliana and Cassandra, I had the basics of my situation figured out.

I was in a country called Ferelden, in the village of Haven. There was a conclave called for the mages and templars to have peace talks after an act of terrorism had sparked an all-out war between the two groups. The whole thing had been orchestrated by the current Divine, the leader of the Chantry. Shit went south, the conclave blew up, and they had found me along with a female elven apostate at the site of the explosion. We were the only two survivors, and thus the main two suspects.

I explained everything from my point of view, and mentioned that I basically had no fucking clue what the hell they were talking about. They seemed reluctant to believe me, but my strange clothes, words and mannerisms helped convince them that, at the very least, I would not be the best person to smuggle anything anywhere, let alone some sort of explosive device into a large gathering of mages and templars and religious people of various stations.

Solas, another elven apostate, had been quietly observing my interrogation. He figured that perhaps, when the breach was formed, the magical energy that was responsible for the tear in the veil had somehow reacher further than that, even. A parallel universe sort of deal. I had no idea if that was even possible, nor did I have a better explanation. He seemed uncertain if the act could be duplicated to somehow send me back. The news was shocking enough to shut me down emotionally for a few days. They set me up with small living quarters in the chantry, where I hid until I had come to terms with my situation.

I met the Inquisition's ambassador, an intelligent and well-spoken woman named Josephine. I ended up helping her deal with her paperwork after she saw me organizing the books on a small shelf in the chantry. Through her I met other key members of the organization - I was reintroduced to Leliana, their spy master, and Cassandra, a Seeker of Truth. They were the left and right hands of the late Divine, and the founders of the Inquisition. Cullen was an ex-templar and lead the forces. Varric told the stories. Solas was a font of information regarding the Fade and the spirits that resided within. Cole was a spirit that somehow took the form of a young man and said weird things I never really listened to. Vivienne was a powerful and ambitious mage who advised the empress of Orlais on magical matters and wore a pointy hat. The Iron Bull was a very large mercenary captain who did not like being called TIB, even though it was far more efficient. Sera was an elf, but not an elfy elf, and that was about all I understood when we spoke. Blackwall was a Grey Warden, and had a beard. And, of course, there was Ashanna Lavellan, the Herald of Andraste. An elfy elf, as Sera would put it, with long red hair and forest green eyes. She and Solas would blather all day about the Fade and the breach and rifts and all matter of magical whatever. People would look in awe as she walked past, her hand glowing with the same sinister light that hung above us in the sky, shitting demons upon the world. And they _worshiped_ her.

I did not. It didn't much matter, as we really had no reason to interact.

Most people regarded me with suspicion, which was fair enough. Solas and Varric were curious about where I was from, and I answered their questions as best I could without having to get into fractal explanations. You know, explaining that you spend your time playing video games on your computer requires explaining video games, which requires explaining coding, which requires explaining how computers work, which requires explaining blah blah so on and so forth. I had neither the patience nor the in-depth knowledge required for that, so answers were kept as simple as possible. Easier said than done, however.

"So, Princess," Varric started, looking up at me as he spoke from where he was sitting by a small fire, warming his hands. "What's it like where you're from?"

"Princes?" I wrinkled my nose.

He gave me a crooked, shit-eating grin. "Yeah! You know how you walk around with that haughty glare and look down your nose at everyone while you sit inside, delicately sipping your tea?" I glared at him as he did a terrible impression.

"That's just my face, Varric. We call it 'resting bitch face' back home. It's a thing." I sighed and glanced over at the tavern. "But I do like sitting around and delicately sipping tea while the plebs scurry about and do whatever it is they do to keep this place running."

Varric shook his head and chuckled. "You sound almost as bad as an Orlesian noble."

"That was hurtful, Varric. You take that back."

"In any case," he prodded at the fire a bit with a blackened, pointy stick. "You still haven't answered my question."

"Fuck, why not just ask me what the meaning of life is." I crossed my arms and frowned. "Let's just focus on the biggest differences. There's no Fade, so we don't have demons or spirits like you guys do."

"So nobody there dreams?"

"What?" I shot him a confused glance. "People dream just fine. Dreaming is just your subconscious mind working through shit going on in your life. Sometimes it's all metaphorical and confusing, with faceless people and weird talking bananas or whatever the fuck. Sometimes it's more like 'hey, let's solve this math problem you were staring at for half an hour before you went to bed'. Most of the time you don't remember what you were dreaming about anyway, so..." I trailed off and shrugged. "Whatever. We also don't have magic, so no mages. And there's only humans. Oh! And no blight! Unless you count humans as the blight where I'm from. That seems accurate."

"Wait wait wait...no dwarves, elves, qunari, mages, spirits, demons, or darkspawn?"

I nodded. "Right. None of those things. Sounds pretty boring when you put it like that, eh?"

He stared into the fire, his brows knit together in thought. "Well...shit. This place must seem really strange to you."

"Fuck yeah it does. But, you know...you adapt." I offered him a weak smile. "Not much else you can do, other than going insane. But I know enough to know that I don't know enough about alternate dimensions or parallel universes to rule that out, so that helps. Except for the part where I don't know if I'll ever manage to get back." I could feel tears prickling at the back of my eyes as I thought about my family and friends back home. "Do they think I'm dead? Did I just disappear into thin air, without a trace? I hope someone else saw something that they could tell my family, but..." I put my hands over my face as I fought to contain my emotions. The last thing I needed to do was burst into a sobbing fit in the middle of our makeshift camp. Especially when there were others there going dealing with the deaths of family and friends after Corypheus' attack. "That's the worst part of this, Varric. I can handle the culture shock, the technological disparity, the war. Hell, I can handle the weird green thing in the sky shitting demons everywhere. But the thought that my family is suffering and has no idea where I am or what happened...it eats me up inside. It fucking _haunts_ me. And there's absolutely _nothing_ I can do about it."

Varric rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, obviously at a loss. "Shit...I'm sorry, Princess. I don't know what to say."

"There isn't anything you can say." I kicked at a chunk of ice on the ground and let out a heavy sigh. "I'll deal with it. Somehow."

He gave me a comforting pat on the shoulder. "If you ever need someone to just talk to, or to talk your ear off instead, I'm here."

We were both distracted by a commotion behind us. Cassandra was supporting Ashanna as they walked toward the camp. The elven woman was in dire shape- she was probably on the brink of hypothermia and most likely had other wounds from the battle that needed tending to. Cullen was barking orders to the soldiers, while Leliana quietly spoke to her people, who then ran off with obvious purpose. The Herald was placed on a cot and tended to. People around us began calling out exultations to the Maker and Andraste for the return of their divine saviour.

"By Andraste's heaving bosom..." Varric breathed, looking impressed. "She made it through. She survived."

"So it would seem." I responded flatly, too drained for a properly emotional response. "I need to sleep now." Without waiting for a response, I wandered off to find a spot to claim as my own. Mother Giselle directed me to a small cot at the far end of the large tent she was in. There were a few wounded soldiers and the Herald being tended to. I wandered past them, paying them no attention, until I came to the empty cot. I laid down, covered myself with the thin blanket that had been folded and set at the foot of the bed, and fell asleep to the sounds of the three advisors and Cassandra arguing with each other over what to do next.

It was the first night I hadn't cried myself to sleep.

* * *

Feel free to leave a review if the compulsion is strong enough.


	2. 2: A Chat with Varric

Derp.

* * *

I woke up to warm, honey-toned rays of sunshine kissing my face, and songbirds plying their chirpy trade outside my window. And also the sounds of the other inhabitants going through their morning routines.

It was more than simple luck that we came across the abandoned castle. While from the back it looked like the Herald was leading our ragged band of survivors onward with great confidence, Solas was really the one showing the way. He stood behind her, quiet and unassuming, all the while nudging her in the proper direction. There wasn't any point in asking him how he knew of the castle's whereabouts, either. The answer would inevtiably be 'I saw it in the Fade', or 'I met a spirit in my dreams that showed me the way.' It was far too convenient an answer, as far as I was concerned.

So I held my little kernel of suspicion concerning Solas. I held it closely and quietly in the back of my mind, and I watched. What else had the Fade told him about? After he had learned that I had no connection to the Fade, much like the dwarves, his curiosity in me dissipated. I probably should have felt slighted, but I didn't really care. It was established that we were on polite, if cool, terms and we both spent our time pursuing other relationships and interests.

The Herald had been named the leader of the Inquisition, and the great move into Skyhold had begun. I quickly claimed a room in one of the wall towers close to the tavern as mine. With a few words to Cullen and Josephine, I had the walls and roof patched up, debris removed, and new furniture brought in. It took a while for people to stop trying to take a shortcut through it while walking the battlements, but keeping the doors locked helped.

With a tired sigh, I forced myself out of bed and got ready to face the day. Josephine had heard me complaining about not having any of my normal skin and makeup products, so she went out of her way to get me a lovely elfroot and lavender face cream that did wonders for my complexion, along with a few sets of leathers so I could 'blend in with the crowd'. I slapped the cream on my face, put some real pants on, threw my hair up into a pony tail to contain its frizzy horror, and shuffled my way over to the tavern via the battlements.

"Hey Cole." I greeted the spirit as I entered the building on the uppermost floor.

"Is the cake _always_ a lie?" He replied.

"Depends on who's offering." I responded. "Stay out of my head. We've been over this."

"Sorry."

And he was gone. Or invisible. Whichever it was. I sighed and continued down the stairs to the second floor. There were a few people sitting around, chatting at tables or just standing around in groups of two or three. I avoided eye contact and quickly made my way down to the ground floor just as Varric was entering. He caught sight of me and waved, his usual shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"Well, look who finally decided to get up!"

I shrugged. "Unimportant people like myself don't really have anything to do early in the morning." We both approached the bar. Cabot looked surly, as usual. With a grunt of recognition, he put my regular cup of coffee on the bar and went back to cleaning last night's tankards. I took it with a 'thanks' and made for the nearest table. Varric followed with a tankard of ale. I raised my brow and give him a judgmental look over the lip of my mug. "Booze already?"

"Yeah..." He stared broodily into the mug before taking a swig. "It's been one of those days already."

"Tell me about it." I took a sip of my coffee and grimaced. Bitter. Just the way I hated it. Varric chuckled at me.

"You make that face _every_ time you get coffee. Why don't you put something in it to make it taste better?"

"This isn't about taste. This is me getting caffeine into me so I can function like a somewhat normal adult human being instead of a psychopathic badger or something." I took another drink but suppressed the after-look. "It's all about the function. Now tell me what happened, or find a different table to sit at."

"As you command, Princess." He wasn't letting go of that nickname. "Remember how I told you about the Champion of Kirkwall?" I nodded. "Well...he's here."

There was a pause in conversation, like he had just told me the secret of life and was waiting for me to explode with enlightenment. "Uh...that's nice?"

"Of course you wouldn't know about that..." He muttered under his breath and took another swig. "A while after Anders blew up the Chantry and started the mage rebellion, Cassandra had come to Kirkwall looking for Hawke, who had gone off somewhere. I convinced her that I didn't know where he was."

"But you knew the whole time, and brought him here to help with Corypheus." I finished the story. "And Cassandra found out that you had lied to her the entire time and was understandably upset with you."

"Not you too..." Varric frowned and buried his face in his hand.

"You really think I give a flying fuck, Varric? I'm saying that I understand that Cassandra would be upset with you. Not that _I'm_ upset with you. I don't really care." I shrugged and finished my coffee. I couldn't repress the grimace that time.

He just sat there and looked right sullen, starting at the bottom of his mug.

"Look, Varric. You can sit here and pout like a bitch into the bottom of as many tankards as your liver can handle, OR you can do the intelligent thing and just wait a while. Once Cassandra gets over her initial shit fit, she'll figure out why you lied to her and calm down. Then you can go make it up to her by...fuck, I don't know. Polishing her sword." I snickered to myself. "Almost a double entendre. _Almost_."

"Wait, you're saying that _I_ should go apologize to _her_?" Varric snorted incredulously. At least it was better than pouting. "She kidnapped me, tied me up in Hawke's manor, and _interrogated_ me, and I'M supposed to apologize to HER?"

"Calm your tits and let me explain life to you, Varric." I pulled his tankard away from him and fixed him with an unflinching and, as I had been informed many times, very disconcerting stare. "You want an apology from her for tying you up in a basement and being mean to you? First off, there are men who would _pay_ for that, so maybe you're just being a whiny asshole about the whole situation. Secondly, the fastest way to make sure someone never apologizes to you is to demand an apology." I sat back in my chair and steepled my fingers, still glaring at him. "Cassandra, despite what some people might think, is a woman deeply moved by her emotions. She values honesty and loyalty. Neither of which you have shown her, I might add." He dropped his gaze to his hands and fidgeted. "But she has a habit of acting on her emotions before thinking things through. Then, when she has a moment to think, she fusses and regrets and agonizes over what could have been or should have been or whatever. So chances are she's already regretting what she said and did, both here and in Kirkwall, for various reasons. But she won't come apologize to you, because fuck you. You're the asshole that hid Hawke from her, still. But once you say you're sorry for that - _and fucking mean it_ \- I'm pretty sure you'll get your apology from her."

Varric studied his hands for a long while before looking up at me with a look somewhere between suspicion and wariness. "You know, it's a little disconcerting the way you dissect people like that."

I shrugged. "You and I both know that I don't fit in. I didn't back home, either. Most people can be placated with a smile and superficial small talk. 'Oh, lovely weather we're having! Aren't the herbs growing in just beautifully?'" I sneered. "Yuck. But then there are the people you actually like and respect. I like and respect Cassandra, and it's in my best interest to understand how she operates so I can avoid..." I gestured at him. "The situation you find yourself in right now. As much as it's possible to avoid, anyway. My personality usually results in some friction within most of my interpersonal relationships, both platonic and otherwise. Just like right now, between us!" I gave him a cheeky smile and a thumbs up. "But I can assure you that it is very much against my own personal set of ethics to manipulate people. Manipulation isn't what I'm after. Coexistence is."

"Riiiight..." He got to his feet and gave me a mocking bow. "If you'll excuse me, Princess, I'm going to go before I get on your bad side."

"Bowing in mockery is a good start there, then." I flipped my hand at him in a shooing gesture and he wandered toward the door. "Just think about what I said!"

He came back later and told me that he had done as I suggested, and it went even better than I said it would. He got a full apology _and_ explanation from the Seeker. To make it even better, while he was mulling over what I had told him the Inquisitor had informed him that Cassandra was a huge fan of his romance serial, _Swords and Shields_ , so he was working on the next chapter as a gift 'because it was so terrible he just had to make it happen'.

Adorable.

* * *

Hope established characters don't get totally OOC. Let me know if they do. I also think I may have forgotten the 'e' at the end of Hawke's name once or twice, but I'm not reading through this trash again to fix it. Ain't nobody got time for that.


	3. 3: Blackwallmore like BlackWAAH LOLZ

Hurrblurrrrr. Short chapters are nice. It's not their fault that I write them soooo blehhhh.

* * *

CH 3: In which Blackwall has problems with Vivienne

I sat at my regular table in the tavern, a coffee in one hand and a book in the other. I had no idea what Cassandra liked about _Swords and Shields_. Every second page had me wanting to vomit in my own mouth, but I had promised her that I would read through them (she wasn't particularly pleased about that, but I honestly wanted to know what she was ranting about) and I wasn't about to go back on my word. I was just about to begin the fourth chapter when I noticed Blackwall enter the building, looking even more miserable than usual, and a bit sun scorched. The Inquisitor had taken him, Vivienne and Sera to the Western Approach to deal with Venatori or some such thing.

I thanked whatever powers may be that I didn't have to deal with going out into the field. Shuffling papers was more my speed, and recently I had begun to help Leliana and Cullen along with Josephine as far as paperwork went. It felt nice to be useful.

I was surprised when Blackwall dropped into the seat across from me, a tankard in hand and a grim look on his face. I put my book down and raised an eyebrow at him. "Hello."

He grunted in response and took a long drink. There was an awkward moment where he looked around the room like the words he wanted to say were painted on the wall somewhere by a benevolent force of social interaction. "You helped Varric and Cassandra get along."

"Did I?' I took a sip of my coffee and shrugged. I had gotten used to the bitterness.

"Well, they're not at each other's throats anymore, which is an improvement."

While that was true, it was an odd thing to bring up. "Blackwall...what do you want?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I thought that maybe...you could do the same thing for me and Vivienne. This last trip out..." He trailed off, looking frustrated. "We're supposed to be a team out there, but she's making that _really_ hard." He explained the brief conversations they had had, which did not go his way.

Apparently, me giving advice was turning into a thing. I secretly hoped that it wouldn't spread around too much. I could only handle so much conversation in one day.

"I'm just trying to be a decent person, and she practically _spits_ on me for it." He ended his narrative and glanced down at the table, looking like a kicked puppy.

I sighed and shook my head at him. "Blackwall...the best thing to do here is to not try the whole 'white knight' deal with her. Vivienne doesn't need anyone to save her from anything." I paused. "Actually, just don't say anything to her at all. Leave her be, both in and out of battle. She's a knight enchanter. She's perfectly capable of taking care of herself."

"But what if-"

"Shut it, Blackwall." He snapped his mouth shut and glared. "Don't give me that look. At this point, anything you do or say will just make things worse. If she's decided that she doesn't like you, then she doesn't like you, and that's fine. You do your front line fighter thing, she'll do her knight enchanter thing, and you two never have to talk to each other." I glanced around the room conspiratorially and motioned for him to come closer as I leaned toward him. "But if she ever decides she wants to start shit with you for no reason, just subtly imply that she's getting old and becoming irrelevant. But deny it if she calls you out." I sat back and smiled. "That's it. And if you tell anyone you heard that from me, I will destroy you."

He let out a humourless chuckle. "Right..." He stood up, tankard in hand. "Thanks for the advice. I'll keep in mind." With that, he toddled off toward another table with a few soldiers sitting around. Probably going to make vague non-statements about the Wardens and epic battles to boost his ego with the fawning looks of hero worship from the young, inexperienced soldiers. Whatever floats your goat, Blackwall.

I picked up my book again and sneered as the new chapter began with the knight-captain, once again, in a dangerous and compromising situation that seemed likely to end her career and/or life. They all started the same.

* * *

So those were words that happened. Thank god THAT'S over.


	4. 4: Vivienne exacts her revenge, pt 1

CH 4, PT 1: In which Vivienne exacts the her revenge

Well. So much for short chapters.

* * *

I was awoken by the sound of someone pounding incessantly at my door. The sun was barely creeping through the narrow windows...it was early. _Too early_.

"Miss Dawn! Miss Dawn, it's time to wake up!"

"I'm quite certain it isn't!" I called back angrily. "I call shenanigans! WHO IS RESPONSIBLE?!"

"Lady Vivienne sent us to fetch you. She said she has a gift for you."

My stomach flopped uneasily. I _knew_ that advice I gave to Blackwall would come back to bite me in the ass, just like that seven day old burrito had back in days of my youth. I banished the unpleasant memories of that particular decision out of my mind and frowned. "Give me a minute."

I was definitely too large to sneak out of the window. Also, both windows opened to steep drops, which would at best hurt and at worst kill, so that wasn't a viable exit strategy anyway. Chances are Vivienne would have sent one person for each door, so that likely wasn't an escape option either. Shit. I was trapped. Trapped like a cynical rat.

"I've thought about it," I called out, unsure of which door to address anymore, "and I think I'll pass. I have everything I could possibly need here, so...no thanks."

There was an ominous pause. "I'm afraid I simply can't take no for an answer, darling." Vivienne drawled back, her tone ironically warm. My stomach flopped once again. "Now be a dear and come out, or we'll be forced to extract you like a rat from it's hole."

"Yeah, I've already drawn that parallel, Vivienne. It's a good one though, so kudos." I sighed and threw my covers off of me. If this was happening, I sure as hell wasn't going to make it easy on her. I messed up my hair as much as possible, made sure my clothes were suitably bedraggled-looking, and didn't bother with shoes. I flung my door open with the biggest smile I could manage. "Well, _good morning_ sunshine! Nothing better to wake up to than a gift!" She barely concealed her sneer with a smile and a gracious nod.

"Indeed. Come along now, dear. We should get you somewhere where you won't scare the children."

"Aw, but it's so funny when they piss themselves." I laughed humorlessly. "Dear lord, strike me down now..." I muttered darkly under my breath, trying to ignore the looks that the people we passed were giving me. This was going to be painful.

She and her two cronies led me to a small, private room where a hot bath had been drawn. Viv motioned toward it gracefully, a placid and benevolent look on her face. "First we should scrub the _smell_ off of you." She wrinkled her nose delicately as she gave me a once over. "And burn those clothes. They smell like wet dog."

I shrugged nonchalantly. "Sure." I started to disrobe as apathetically as possible, all the while planning how I was going to make this somehow go my way. "Although I'm not entirely sure how someone of your stature would even know the smell of wet dog."

She chuckled. "The smell hits you like a wall as soon as you cross Fereldan's border."

"And here I thought you had been caught unawares in the rain one day. Silly me." There was a voice in the back of my head screaming WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS DEAR GOD DO YOU WANT TO DIE?! I tried to not let the panic take over. If this was a battle of wit, I was going to lose, so I figured I might as well go out in flames? Perhaps literally. And it was perhaps the worst idea I had ever had in my entire life, including the burrito.

Shit.

"Give her a _really good_ scrub, dear." Vivienne addressed one of the ladies waiting in the room, who nodded back nervously, before turning her attention back to me. There was a malicious gleam in her eyes. "This is going to hurt, darling." She purred, a smug smile on her face.

I matched her smile with a sadistic grin of my own. "Good. I like it rough."

Her smile faltered slightly before she turned on her heel and made for the door. "Enjoy yourself, dear. This is only the beginning. I have an entire day of surprises planned for you." she called back without turning. The sound of her heels clicking on the stone floors slowly faded.

I gave the servant left behind a chagrined look. "This _is_ going to hurt, isn't it." It wasn't a question.

"I'm sorry, miss. Lady Vivienne was very explicit in her request." The woman, a gentle looking lady probably somewhere in her 50's, gave me an apologetic smile. "But this is a very sought-after treatment in Orlais, I've heard, and the scrubs and soaps are exquisite."

I forced myself into the scorching hot bath and pressed my lips into a thin, determined line. "Let's get this over with, then."

It was indeed painful. First she scrubbed me all over with a loofah made of what felt like steel wool covered in barbed wire, and then she used a soapy scrub that smelled lovely but felt like it was made of glass shards. I was surprised I wasn't bleeding from every pore. Then she scrubbed my scalp for what felt like an eternity, and when it was done I was fairly sure that I didn't actually have any hair left on my head at all. I was, of course, wrong. In the end I was smooth, clean, smelled like an angel's delicious fucking fart, and every inch of my skin felt like it was on fire.

The lady, whose name I asked but promptly forgot, pinned my hair up, gave me a fresh pair of smallclothes along with a chemise and a lovely silken dressing robe, and led me to my next stop along my personal path of hell. I found myself in Josephine's office. A room screen had been set up in the corner, and fluffy bunches of fabric that looked suspiciously like dresses had been slung over the top. Vivienne was chatting amiably with Josephine, who seemed incredibly excited about something.

"I can't believe you convinced her to agree to this!" Josephine gushed. "Believe me, I have _tried_ , but she would never even entertain the idea. And to go to a ball? Just last week she turned down a simple gathering at the tavern!"

Vivienne chuckled and waved her hand dismissively. "My dear Josephine, _anyone_ can be persuaded with the proper technique." She looked over at me and smiled widely. "How do you feel now that you're properly clean, my dear?"

"I feel _great_." I hissed out through clenched teeth. I didn't bother to smile. Josephine's eyes nervously flicked between Vivienne and I a few times. "Like a snake, freshly out of its skin sock. All _smooth_."

"Well, it's about time." Vivienne walked over to the screen and pulled out a corset from behind it. "Now, if you're going to attend the ball being held at the Winter Palace, _and you ARE going to attend,_ " she ground that part out with the stern voice one uses to let another know that the only way out is death, "you will have to dress appropriately, of course."

"I thought that all of the invitations sent to the Inquisition were already spoken for." I shot back, eyeing her warily. She knew I hated parties. _She didn't..._

"Well, after I told the Empress of you and your unique situation, she simply _had_ to invite you! The Empress is quite interested in magical oddities, you know." She flashed me that smug smile again.

"Lucky me..." I grumbled darkly, figuring what the next part of my torture was. I stepped behind the curtain, and a lady in waiting was there to tie me into the corset. It was a lovely, shimmery ivory material, and soft to the touch. The lady gave the laces a good pull, and I shot a Viv a glare.

"Now, I'm sure we'll need to give you some lessons on proper conduct." Viv looked down her nose at me, an eyebrow delicately arched.

"I'm sure that once I'm _your_ age I'll have experienced it all and will have all the necessary knowledge, howevHURK-" Viv had given the lady a sharp nod, and a mighty tug on the corset strings was the painful result. "I don't think my ribs are supposed to bend like that..." I wheezed miserably. After a few more futile tugs, the corset was tied.

"Can you breathe?" Vivienne asked.

"Barely." I responded, unsure if a longer sentence was even possible.

"Good." Her tone was dark, and her smile sharp. "Time to pick a dress. Do you have any colour preferences?"

"Nope." As if I would give her any information she could use against me.

"Josephine, dear, what would you recommend?"

Josephine hummed and hawed over the dresses draped on the small wall. "Well, spring colours are in, but I doubt her complexion could carry pastels well..." Two dresses were removed. "Hm...I'd go with the blue or the green." They held the dresses up to my face. I grimaced. "What do you think, Dawn?"

"I think that now would be a good time to simply drop dead of unknown causes."

"Oh, you'll be fine!" Josie cooed at me. "Definitely the blue. It brings out her eyes."

Vivienne hummed in agreement and the other dresses were taken away. "Excellent choice, my dear. Let's get her into it, shall we?"

There was no panniers, at least. They skipped the stockings, as it was just a fitting (and I loudly and unabashedly whined and complained until they relented), and went straight to the petticoats. There was a plain white one made of cotton, followed by a fluffy taffeta one in a soft sky blue. The gown itself was put on much like a jacket, and fastened closed at the front, then laces in the back were used to tighten the fit. This one had pagoda sleeves. I flopped my arms about and frowned as I stared down at the low cut front, showing off all of the boob squished up by the corset and dress front. "I am displeased! I AM DISPLEASED!"

"Oh, hush." Vivienne chided as she brought out a fluffy makeup brush and started patting at my face with it. She tutted at my sputtering. "Stop fussing, dear. You'll get powder all over the gown. It's royal sea silk, you know."

I hissed between my teeth. " _I don't care!"_

"Where's Leliana?" Josie mused out loud while fussing with the bodice of the dress. I fought to keep my footing as she tugged left and right, trying to shift it about. "She was supposed to bring the shoes..."

"I thought we were friends!" I cried in despair. Was there anyone who _wasn't_ involved in this? We all turned as the door opened. Cullen took a couple of steps into the room before looking up from the report he was reading. He stood stock still, a perfectly blank look on his face, and there was a moment of complete silence as we all just stood around awkwardly. A blush crept up his face as he quickly turned on his heel and walked out of the room with a quiet, exasperated 'Maker's Breath.' I snapped out of my inaction. "Wait, Cullen! I NEED A MERCY KILL!"

Leliana waltzed in just as Cullen was leaving, a stack of boxes in her hands. She let out a soft laugh and shook her head. "Vivienne, I thought you said you were going to inform everyone that the meeting was cancelled?"

Vivienne tapped her chin. "It must have slipped my mind."

I was dead inside. I tried on shoes. They picked a pair of cream coloured satin heels that pinched my toes. They fussed over my hair and brought me a snack when my stomach started growling loud enough to interrupt their conversation. They picked a mask of some description and cooed over it all like I was a dog they were dressing up. I replied with nothing more than zombie-like grunts. Eventually, they removed everything and I was provided with a fresh pair of what was affectionately referred to as the 'beige pajamas' and sent along my way.

I went directly to my room and locked myself in for the rest of the day. I had the feeling that my punishment wasn't over yet. At least I had a few weeks to figure out how to deal with the possibility of actually having to go to the Winter Palace. Falling down the steep set of stairs outside my room was strategy number one. But that wasn't really an option, and I really wasn't going to be able to worm my way out of it without honestly contracting some sort of projectile vomiting illness. I wasn't sure if that was any better than going to a fancy party where someone might stab me with a fork, if the stories were to be believed.

I was _so_ going to get stabbed.

Karma's a bitch.

* * *

Aaaaaand SCENE. That's a wrap, people. Same time tomorrow.


	5. 5: Misery and Chess

Oh hey look another one. From what dark crevice of filth did this crawl out of, like spiders from that box you hadn't bothered to unpack when you moved seven years ago? Oh wait. I answered my own question.

* * *

CH 5: In which I am miserable, and lose a game of chess to Cullen

It was my turn to sit forlornly in the tavern as I stared into the bottom of an alcohol-filled tankard. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as a gentle current of air wafted the bitter stench of whatever filled up cup into my sniffing radius. 'This tastes just as miserable as you look' Cabot had said as he filled the tankard, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. So thoughtful of him to multiply my suffering. So thoughtful.

I stared deep into the sludgy brown liquid. I hadn't taken a drink yet. Every time I got it close to my face I got another sniff and had to fight my gag reflex. After another unsuccessful attempt, I set the tankard down on the table and let out a heavy sigh.

"Why so glum, Princess?" Varric parked his ass in the seat across from me, his usual grin on his face. "You know, when you're all broody like this you remind me of-" He cut himself off with a huff. "Bah, nevermind."

I wasn't in the mood to take any bait. "You know _exactly_ why I'm so glum, Varric."

"Heh, yeah. I have to say, the gossip around Skyhold has certainly been more lively as of late."

Of course it had. The nobles milling about the castle no doubt took no small measure of delight in coming up with all sorts of ridiculous stories about why I was dragged about the castle and dressed up like a poncy asshole by three of the most influential people in the organization. I sighed heavily again and half buried my face in my palm. "I don't even want to hear it. I don't want to hear what those foppish bags of dicks came up with. I don't. Want. To hear."

"Well, fine. If you say so." Varric looked around the tavern innocently. "If you don't want to hear about how they think that-"

"CEASE AND DESIST IMMEDIATELY, DWARF." I gave him and angry glare. He responded with an exaggerated sigh of defeat.

"If you say so, Princess."

"You say that like I haven't already said so. Multiple times." I grumbled and eyed my drink, wondering if I was miserable enough now to suffer through a sip. Another whiff of the ale hit me. Nope. Not miserable enough. I pushed it slightly further away from me with my index finger. "I can imagine well enough, anyway."

He chuckled. "Oh, _can_ you?"

I thought about it. "No. And thank the Maker's flaccid dickslap for that. Can you imagine that, Varric? Your Maker's limp dong of forgiveness, gently flopping all over your face as he lovingly teabags you for your sins?"

"Andraste's tits...where do you even get that shit from?" Varric clenched his eyes and shook the thought out of his head.

"Certainly not your books." I retorted. "Let me help with _Swords and Shields_! I could totally make it ten times worse than you already think it is!"

He looked at me incredulously. "Are you joking? Could you imagine what the Seeker would do to me if she had to read about the Maker's..." He flipped his hands about. "What you said." He wiped his face with his hand and shook his head again. "Nope. That's never happening."

I simply shrugged. "Your loss. I have some good phrases locked up in here." I tapped my temple and smiled. "I'm more than just a mediocre face, you know." Without thinking, I grabbed the tankard, gave Varric a saucy wink, and took a swig. I sat for a moment with the ale in my mouth, full of confusing feelings: revulsion, confusion, anger, nausea. I spit the ale back into the tankard and coughed. "Oh my god...it tastes like a dead skunk's asshole!" I grabbed Varric's drink and downed half of it before he could protest. We sat for a moment. I let out a belch. "Ok, I'm better."

"Classy." He took his drink back from me and eyed it mournfully. "What made you order dwarven ale, of all things? You know they make that shit out of fungus, right?"

"Well, that's disgusting and I'm appropriately disgusted." I responded with my lip curled in disgust. "My mouth feels tingly."

"Yeah, we'll just..." He pushed the tankard to the opposite end of the table where I couldn't reach it. "There."

Another wave of nausea hit. "Ugh. I think I need some fresh air. And a priest to read me my last rites and deliver me unto Andraste's heaving chesticles."

"Yeah, well, her Inquisitorialness was kind enough to not drag me to the swamp this time, so feel free to come back for a game of Wicked Grace when you stop knocking on death's door." Varric took a pack of cards out of his pocket and began shuffling.

"Will do, bruh." I gave him an ironic thumbs up and shuffled out of the tavern. I flinched when the sunlight hit my eyes. You never realized how dingy it was in the tavern until you stepped out into the late afternoon sunshine, boring directly into your retinas. After a moment of disorientation, I made my way toward the garden so I could sniff an embrium, or lick an elfroot, or gently fondle a ghouls beard, or whatever would make my stomach stop flipping off the goddamn handle. Mother Giselle was usually there, so I planned to wander up to her pitifully, interrupting whatever important conversation she was having, and hold my torso while whining pathetically about how my tummy felt yucky.

Just my luck, she wasn't there. I sat in the shade for a few minutes and felt better, though, so I made my way over to where I spied Cullen and Dorian playing chess. "Hey guys. Bros. Brosephs. How's it going?"

"It's going quite well. Although, I'm not sure the commander would agree with that assessment." Dorian grinned smugly as he moved a piece across the board and removed one of Cullen's pieces with a triumphant 'hah'. Cullen remained unfazed.

"Well, if you keep making moves like _that_ , you'll be changing your tune." Cullen moved a piece and sat back, his fingers steepled. "Oh, wait...I think that's a game."

Dorian stared at the board for a few moments before sucking his teeth and sighing. "You win again. I suppose I'll slink away and sulk in a corner, licking my wounds."

I snorted. "As if you'd lick your own wounds, Dorian."

He gave me a mock hurt look as he walked past and sniffed delicately. "Such judgement!"

"One of the many services I offer free of charge, and without being requested!" I mimed tipping a hat at him as he shook his head and walk off toward the castle. I turned back to Cullen, who motioned toward the board.

"Feel like another lesson?"

He had tried to teach me the game before, but I couldn't seem to catch on. I plopped down into the seat opposite him and grimaced. "I don't know. It's just...the board has _so many sides_. Like... _sooooo many._ " Indeed, the chess boards in Thedas had six sides instead of four. Not to mention the pieces were different shapes, had different names, and moved in different patterns from the chess I knew and failed miserably at back home. I scratched a finger mindlessly on my knee. I was back in my leathers, which was always preferred. I also might have been drunk the last time he tried to teach me.

He just chuckled warmly. "Yes, you had mentioned that before. Quite a few times, actually."

I felt a faint blush rise on my face. Damn you, face! DO NOT. "Yeah...I was definitely drunk that time. Sorry."

"I figured." He grinned at me and reset the pieces. "I take it you're not this time? You've certainly managed to not fall over as much, at least."

I put my right hand over my heart and held my left hand up. "I do solemnly swear that I will never, under ANY circumstances, attempt to drink Varric under the table EVER again." I dropped my hands. "Although, in my defense, I managed to hold my own quite well. Or so I've been told." I shrugged nonchalantly. "But that hangover... hoo boy. I'm old enough to know better, but apparently not old enough to DO better. Like the tweens of your drinking age, you know? Just...awkward. Bad decisions all around." I shook my head and made the face you make when you eat something unexpectedly sour. "Oh, and if Cabot ever offers you anything to drink and describes it as 'as miserable tasting as you are looking', just say no and order something else. My mouth still tastes like I tossed the Devil's salad." I stuck my tongue out and shivered.

Cullen cocked his head slightly and furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry, it tastes like what?"

"Bah. I keep forgetting that people here don't have the same sayings. Let me think of something comparable." I tapped my chin thoughtfully. "Oh, I know! It tastes like Maferath's crusty asshole! Does that work?"

"Maker's breath..." He gave a quick glance around the garden before giving me an exasperated frown. "Could you please refrain from _cheerfully yelling_ such things?"

"Well, I _could_ , but in all honesty, I probably won't." He glared. "Oh, cut it out. You know that look doesn't work on me." He didn't relent. I sighed. "Okay, okay. I'll attempt to keep all those literary gems bottled within me. You're a terrible person for depriving the world of my witty blasphemy, though."

"Oh, I know. I'm just the worst." He replied sarcastically before giving me a brief description of what each piece was called and the patterns in which they could move. Then the game began. The board being a different shape didn't really change the game much. I was still just as lost as before. He let me make the first move. I hummed and hawed and stared most intently at the board before grabbing one of the little front line cannon fodder guys and moving it two squares up. Good enough.

Cullen quickly made his move and sat with his elbow resting on his knees, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. "So...what exactly was going on in Josephine's office?"

"Ah. _That_." I moved another of the thingers. This time it was a pointy douche that moved diagonally in any direction a maximum of five spaces. I just plonked him in a vacant square within those parameters. "Long story short: I gave Blackwall advice on how to piss of Vivienne. He used it I'm assuming, she found out I told him what to say, and so she's pissed off at me and making me suffer for it by 'pampering' me and basically forcing me to live out my nightmare by dragging me along to that ball that's happening in Halamshiral or whatever."

He blinked at me incredulously. "Why would you ever do something to make that woman angry?" He moved another of the pieces to a different square. Always moving pieces to squares.

I shrugged in response. "I guess I have a sadistic streak? Nothing dangerous. I just like to see people _squirm_. It brings me joy. It's why I always make a point of mentioning the Maker's dong when I'm around Varric."

His head snapped up. "You do _what_? Ugh, nevermind...I don't want to know."

"Seriously. He must be a bit of a masochist to still be friends with me." I looked at the board. "Yeah, I really have no idea what I'm doing." I just picked a piece at random and moved it. That was my ongoing strategy.

There was a short period of time where we just moved pieces on the board. He took most of my little guys out easily. I took a few of his, but the game was pretty one-sided. It wasn't long before he had me checkmated. Checkmated? Was that even the proper term? Whatever. He won, the sun rose in the morning and set in the evening, and nobody was surprised. I sat back as he reset the board and sighed. "I hate dresses."

"You looked lovely." He replied softly, not taking his eyes off of the chess board. I smiled softly and ignored the fluttery feelings in my stomach. Probably just the ale still. Growing weird dwarven fungus in my organs.

"Thanks, Cullen. Although it's hardly a reflection of what I look like on a day to day basis. They had me tied into that corset so fucking tight I'm surprised my ribs didn't nestle themselves comfortably into all of my internal organs like fork tines in a roast." I stared wistfully off into the distance. And by 'into the distance' I meant 'unseeingly at some random chantry douche who shifted about uncomfortably under my cold, cold gaze.' "Shit. Now I'm hungry." I got to me feet and nodded my head toward the kitchen. "Feel like raiding the larders? Eh? Eh?"

He thought about it for a moment. "I could use something to eat, I suppose." He got up and we made our way through the garden.

"I like hanging out with you, Cullen. We should do this more often!" I grinned as I gently elbowed him in the side. I did it a little too hard before and ended up hitting my funny bone on his armour. It wasn't a pleasant experience.

He rubbed the back of his neck and smiled down at me. "I'd like that."

"Me too." I blinked and felt my head twitch a little. Why did I say that? I was the one who mentioned it in the first place. Derp. He said something quietly, but I was too busy wondering what herp-derpery had come over me to hear. Didn't matter. I snuck into the kitchen and stole some choice cuts of meat, cheese and a whole loaf of bread before I was caught by the cook and chased out of the kitchen. We both raced back to his office and enjoyed our ill-gotten bounty.

* * *

Beep boop doopy doop.  
I would like to eat some soup.  
Not too hot, not too cold,  
full of flavours, rich and bold.


	6. 6: Bull's Bull

I don't think I like this chapter. It's just...bleh. I never really paid much attention to Bull during the game. It's not that I don't like him, I just...left him to hang around at Haven and Skyhold ALL OF THE TIME.

* * *

CH 6: In which Bull gets to say some words, probably

I got in trouble for the meat and cheese I stole from the kitchen. Josie was fuming when I went to help her with some paperwork the next day. Apparently it was some super special cheese that had been specially brought in for the imminent visit of Lord Poncybottom Dasherpants of who cares whatever. Tasted like regular old gouda to me.

"I'd expect something like this from Sera, but from you?" She huffed and blustered about at her desk, the feather of her quill twitching madly as she swooshed it around.

"Well, if you expected it from Sera, that should mean that you have a backup plan."

She sputtered slightly. "Well, of course I do...but that's not the point!"

I paused my shuffling of papers and looked up at her like an angry librarian. "Look, _I'm_ the victim here. I ate so much cheese I probably won't be able to shit for a week. Do you know what it's like to not shit for a week? It's shitty! Wait, it's the opposite of that. It's really unpleasant!"

She wrinkled her nose. "Ugh...why must you say such things?"

"Just keepin' it real, yo. Don't worry, I'll let you know when I give birth to my cheese baby." I patted my lower abdomen tenderly. "I've named it Roderick. After that loud, dead douchenozzle."

"That's in bad taste."

"Pretty much everything I say is in bad taste, Josephine. That's the point."

She let out a soft 'huh' and shrugged it off. "I do hope you tone it down at the Winter Palace. I don't want to have to cart your dead body back to Skyhold after someone challenges you to a duel."

I groan and writhed around angrily in my chair. "Josieeeeee don't remind me! I don't want to go to a stupid party thrown by the stupid Empress for her stupid peace talks that are dumb!" I stopped flailing and crossed my arms like a petulant child. "I don't wanna go."

She clucked her tongue at me chidingly. "We'll give you some lessons on etiquette and you'll be fine. I hope..." She added the last part under her breath.

"Such confidence in my abilities. How could I fail?" I shot her a sarcastic smile as I dropped the pile of papers on her desk. "There. All sorted. When's the etiquette lesson?"

"Ah, thank you." She took the papers and tucked them away in one of her drawers before consulting her calendar. "Let's see...today I have to write replies to all those letters, tomorrow we're expecting Lord and Lady Aubergine, after that-"

"Just...just send a messenger when you get all _that_ sorted out." I waved my hand toward her beloved clipboard and frowned. "Good luck and god speed. I'm out." I quickly made my way to the door before she could ask me to convey a message for her. She did it _every time_.

"Oh! If you see Dorian could you tell him-"

And I shut the door. Thank the Maker's sweaty ball sack...the last time she had me deliver a message the quartermaster yelled at me for five minutes before I told him to blow it out his ass and go bitch at someone who actually gave a fuck. And _I_ was the one who got in trouble! I was _always_ the one who got in trouble!

I made my way to my regular table in the tavern and had my regular plain coffee. I was feeling a bit better about my life until Bull came and sat down.

"Hey there, Dawn." He motioned toward Cabot for another drink.

"Hi Bull." I regarded him suspiciously. We had only interacted a couple of times before, and always with other people around as our primary contacts, as it were. It was like our interactions were secondary interactions rather than primary, if that made any sense at all. "What's going on?"

He shrugged. "Eh, nothing much. Krem and the gang are out on a mission." He jerked his thumb toward the area where him and his gang usually hung around. It was indeed empty. "And since you're here, I figured we could hang out a bit. Get to know one another. It sounds like you'll be sticking around here for a while."

"What makes you say that?"

I watched as a couple of the tavern girls walked past, tittering as the fluttered their eyes and waved coyly to Bull. He winked his one good eye back, and gave the nearest one a pat on the ass as she passed the table. They both erupted into fits of giggles and scampered off. Bull sighed, a saucy grin plastered on his face. "You know those two? Amber and Bella. Not their real names, but 'Bertrice' and 'Doris' don't draw much attention. They managed to escape-"

"Yeah, I really couldn't care less about Bamber and Florence or their magical escape from the claws of something or whatever you're going to ramble on about." I sneered at him over my coffee. It was my signature expression. Disdain.

He took it in stride, but there was a subtle change in his expression. "Okay. What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't." I sipped my beverage.

His expression grew determined. " _Fine._ I'll start. I've heard that you and the Commander are pretty close."

"I heard that you have a tripod dick, but they're all only one inch long so the best you can do is give really awkward massages or act as a fruit bowl for a single piece of fruit for half a minute."

He laughed. "I'm sure some people would refute that."

"Who, Mabel and Bessie over there?" I motioned toward where the two girls had wandered off to before shrugging. "Hey, to each their own, you know what I'm saying? I guess that working here all day would result in some knots in your back. Carrying around all those tankards and whatnot."

"Yeah... _whatnot_." He made boob-cupping motions with his hands in front of his chest and grinned. I simply stared at him blankly until he stopped. "Right." He cleared his throat. "Anyway...hm." The corners of his mouth turned down while he thought.

"Seriously, Bull. What do you want?"

He blinked. "I just thought we should get to know-"

I held my hand up to stop him. "Stop with the lies from your lying liehole, and just tell me what you want to hear from me."

His expression turned serious, and he rested his forearms on the table, his hands clasped together. All business. "You know what I am?"

"A Ben-Hassrath."

He nodded. "My superiors want a full report on you. Like, a _full_ report. Probably has something to do with you being from a different plane of existence or however that works." He shrugged. "I told them you break and bleed just like the rest of us and wouldn't be a bigger concern than anyone else, but they insisted."

I sighed. "Fine. Let's get this over with, then. Ask your questions."

He seemed surprised, but knew better than to question his good luck. "Just basic stuff. Age, height, list of people you associate with, favourite this, that and the other thing. I already sent them a visual description." He gave me a once-over and grinned. I remained impassive.

"I'm 103 years old, eighteen feet tall, associate with only the voices in my head who insist that my favourite things are half-used balls of yarn, dismembered animal feet, the feeling when wearing freshly peeled skin, and the smell of burning human flesh."

"You're not funny." He fixed me with a level glare.

"Is that why I'm not laughing?" I leaned forward and sneered. "If you're asking, it means you haven't managed to glean that information from ambient conversation, or extract it from other people I've been in contact with."

"Maybe I have and I'm just checking a few things." He replied, tilting his head slightly.

"Like how honest I am? Maker's sagging manboobs, Bull...you haven't figured this fucking shit out yet?"

He narrowed his eyes. "You're _weird_. Maybe it's just you, maybe it's where you're from, maybe it's a combination of the two, but you're a slippery one to peg."

"I'll have to take your word for it." I was honestly surprised, and he probably noticed. "In any case, I'm feeling ornery right now and am not particularly interested in answering your spy questions for your spy report. Honestly, I'm not even important enough to bother writing a report up. Just tell them that I'm dull and generally disliked."

"Oh, I already have."

I quirked an eyebrow at his teasing smile. "Good. Now why don't you go spend time with Torrie and Megan over there? Let them rest their weary heads upon your pillowy man-bosoms and deliver them unto sleep upon the tranquil sounds of you droning on about how awesome the Qun is." I picked at my nails with disinterest. "Always put me to sleep."

"Good to know." He got to his feet and gave me a quick nod. "Nice speaking with you."

"No it wasn't." I finished my coffee and watched him swagger away toward the other two ladies before I pinched the bridge of my nose in exasperation. "Fuck a duck, that was painful..."

* * *

Sorry you went through that. Thanks to everyone who has followed, commented, and/or added this story to their alerts! I hope this doesn't make you question your decision!


	7. 7: Intro to Wicked Grace

WHY AM I NOT SLEEPING

* * *

CH 7: In which Varric attempts to teach me how to play Wicked Grace

"It's _easy_ to learn, Princess." Varric sat with me at my regular spot in the tavern, his feet propped up on the table as he shuffled his deck of cards. His back was to the bar, so he didn't see the death glare Cabot was shooting him. "But it's hard to master."

"Varric, I barely know what I'm doing at any given moment of my life. Especially lately." I scratched idly at the table with my index finger and sighed. "But I'm usually not a complete failure at card games, so go ahead and teach me."

His feet were off the table with the grace of a two-legged cat and he sat forward as he eagerly dealt out five cards to us both. "Excellent!"

He proceeded to explain the rules: each player gets five cards. You pick up and discard each turn, all the while trying to get the best hand you could before the angel of death card was drawn. There were five suits - serpents, daggers, songs, knights and angels, ranked respectively. The hands worked a lot like a normal poker hand, so that was easy enough to wrap my head around.

"I think I got it." I gave him a nod while sorting my hand. "Let's play through the first hand slowly as a tutorial of sorts, and then go for realsies." I had two knights, two serpents and a dagger. Not good, but not horrible. "So how do you bet on this when you play with a larger group?"

"Opening bet, then a chance to raise after everyone draws." He pulled a card from the deck, took a moment to look at his hand, and set one down. "That happens until someone pulls the angel of death."

"That...could go on for a while." I drew a card. Another serpent. I tucked it in with the others and discarded the dagger. Full house wasn't too bad.

"Nah." He drew a card. "If you have enough people, you usually only get through two or three betting rounds before someone draws it." He threw a card down. "And there's no point betting if you don't have a large enough group." He grinned at me over his cards.

"So the smaller groups are just for stripping, not making money. Gotcha." Pulled another dagger. Damn.

" _That_ depends more on who's playing." He gave me a wink as he pulled a card. I rolled my eyes so hard I almost pulled a muscle. "Speaking of which, a couple of the guys are planning on having a game tonight..."

I just let him trail off awkwardly as I drew a card. An angel. So useless. I put it on the discard pile and pretended he hadn't said anything.

"I'll take that as a no." He grumbled under his breath as he drew his card. "Ah, and there's the angel of death." We both put our hands down on the table. He looked over at mine and whistled approvingly. "Full house. Not bad, Princess, but not good enough." He motioned to his hand. Four songs and a knight. He gathered the cards up with a grin and began shuffling. "So, since I won, I get to decide what you owe me, right?"

I scowled. "You bet _before_ a hand, not _after_. You turd."

"Hmm...what do I want..." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, completely ignoring me. "What do I _waaaaaant_..."

"A double cheese burger? A nug foot charm? Three stab wounds? A lead pipe, in the library, with Colonel Mustard?"

He gave me a confused glance before waving at me to shut up. "How am I supposed to think with all that blathering?"

"Well, now you finally know how the rest of us feel."

He let out a snort. "Heh, good one. Oh! I got it!" He placed his hands on the table and gave me a wolfish grin. "I want you to go to Curly right now and tell him how you feel."

I shrugged. "That's it? Fine. Let's go." I stood up and made my way to the door. He followed behind, sputtering.

"What, just like that?" He managed to keep up with my long, fast, hard steps.

Heh heh heh. Heh heh. Heh. Double entendre.

"I really don't see what the fuss is here, Varric." We stopped in front of the door to Cullen's office, and I gave it a couple of knocks before I opened it enough to stick my head in. Cullen was at his desk, finishing up with his daily reports. "Knock knock ding dong bing bong. Have a minute?"

Cullen seemed nonplussed, but nodded. "Is something the matter?"

I opened the door all the way and both Varric and I walked over to his desk. "Nah. I lost a hand of Wicked Grace to Varric, and he decided afterward that that meant I owed him something, and apparently that 'something' was to tell you how I feel, so..." I put my hands on his desk, and took a deep, steadying breath with my head down and eyes closed. I looked up, directly into Cullen's honey brown eyes. Mmmm. Honey. "I'm _fucking hungry_."

" _That's_ not what I meant!" Varric cried out angrily, punching my arm.

" _Ow!_ " I held my arm and pouted. "I'm noodley and easily bruised, Varric! Besides, you don't get to bet AFTER the hand! And also, I'm seriously hungry. Like, we're moving into hangry territory here, and nobody wants that." My expression turned somber. " _Nobody_."

Varric pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration. He stood there for a moment before he flipped me the bird and walked out of the room.

"That was hurtful, Varric!" I called out after him. "That hurt." I turned back to Cullen. "I wasn't joking about the hunger thing. You want something?"

He seemed really interested in his paperwork. "Not right now."

I sauntered over to his desk and perched my ass on the corner beside him. "I promise it won't be stolen from the kitchen. A sandwich? Soup? Soup and a sandwich? A rack of lamb? Just a rack?"

He glanced at me quickly, the corners of his lips turning down ever so slightly. "Another time, maybe. I need to finish reading these reports."

I frowned. Damnit, Varric! Always making me look like the asshole. Nevermind the fact that I usually was an asshole. I sighed quietly as I reached out and gently took the report out of his hands. "You've been working non-stop _all_ _day_. The report will still be there tomorrow morning." I set it down on his desk and looked him in the eyes. "I like you. Come with me and get something to eat. Please?"

He glanced back at the report. "I'm not sure I should-"

I put my hand on his and smiled. "Come on! _Come onnnnnnn_!" I got to my feet and tugged at his arm. "Come get some food! Cookies? Steak? Steak-wrapped cookies? Did I mention that I like you? Cake? Noodles? I'm sure there's noodles around here somewhere."

He relented and stood up with a heavy sigh. "I suppose there's no harm in leaving it until tomorrow. I could get up early tomorrow and-"

"Shusshhhh shush shush." I gently covered his face with my hand. " _Shussshhhhh._ No more talk of work. It's food time." I dragged him out of his office and we chatted about our days as we walked to the kitchen. He told me about the soldier that couldn't get his sword out of his scabbard. I snickered for many reasons. I told him about how I had startled a noble and made him spit his wine out so forcefully it came out of his mask's eye holes, and the ensuing lecture from Josephine about proper conduct.

Then we ate sandwiches and apple pie, but not at the exact same time because an apple pie and roast beef sandwich sounds disgusting. Varric came by and tried to wheedle us into playing Wicked Grace, until I threatened him with a butter knife. He backed off and told us, with an over-exaggerated wink, to enjoy our night. "WE GET IT, VARRIC!" I bellowed after him, shaking my fist in his general direction. I gave Cullen a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

A delicate flutter filled my stomach as my eyes met his. His stare was intense. _Hot_. With stunning swiftness, considering all the armour he was still wearing, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I was startled, but quickly reciprocated. We kissed almost desperately, hands roaming over each others' bodies, a desperate need-

PSSSSHHHHHHH HA HA HA JUST KIDDING HAAAAAAAAA HA HA HA HA

We played a game of chess (he won), I had another piece of pie (it was damn good pie!) and then I had to go lay down before I threw up all over the place.

* * *

Winner winner roast beef dinner.


	8. 8: Dorian is upset and upsetting

This has become less about giving advice and more about derping around.

* * *

CH 8: In which Dorian is upset

It took me a while to find the library. I had given up on trying to read _Swords and Shields_ and just got Cassandra to give me the rundown after she had read the chapters. She was no good at telling stories, but she was excellent at boiling things down to the bare minimum and spitting out the important details. That was far less painful than slogging through all the smut myself.

However, that left some free time. At first I spent it working, but there was only so much paperwork that Josie and Cullen could have me help with, and I didn't really feel motivated enough to figure out something else productive to do. So I decided to find something else to read. Varric offered to get me copies of the first few chapters of _Hard in Hightown_. I declined after snickering at the title, which he did not appreciate. 'Get your head out of the gutter,' he said. Once again, I declined. He kindly pointed me in the direction of the library, and off I went.

It was kind of an odd spot to have a library, all things considered. It was the middle of three floors, all circular, with an empty space that ran through the middle of all of them. Leliana and her rookery were above, and Solas was busy with his finger-painting or whatever below. As one could probably imagine, sounds carried throughout the entire space, meaning that there was a constant background noise made up of birds cawing and flapping, and the occasional grumbling from Solas, who was probably getting annoyed with hearing all the birds cawing and flapping all the goddamn time. There were little alcoves, lined with bookshelves, where it was a bit quieter. It was in an alcove at the top of the staircase where I saw Dorian staring broodily out the window, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Why so glum, chum?" I plopped myself into the chair beside him and laced my fingers together over my stomach as I slouched mightily. "You look about as low as a bee's knees and...something about snakes. I don't remember how the saying goes."

He gave me a confused look before continuing with his broody staring. After a moment, he clucked his tongue and gave his head a little shake. "Bah, it's nothing. Honestly, I don't even know why it's bothering me."

"Hold on." I grabbed a chair from a nearby table and dragged it over the the little area with much effort. Dorian's eyes positively glittered with amusement as I strugged with the furniture. "Thanks for helping, Dorian. You're a gem, truly." I plopped down in the chair and motioned for him to take a seat in the other chair across from me. He sighed and complied. "Now, tell me what's bothering you."

He rested his elbow in the armrest and put his chin in his hand, still staring out the window. "Honestly, it's quite silly, but it keeps echoing through my mind."

"Yeah, I'd assume that happens when you have a giant, empty cavern for a skull." He shot me a dark look. "I mean...go on."

He sighed. "It's that Blackwall. The man can't even take a simple _joke_."

"I know _exactly_ what you mean. Why, the other day I had the misfortune of having to interact with one of the minor Olresian lords who randomly mill about here like they own the place. He ordered me to fetch something, so like the friendly and reasonable person I am, I asked him why he thought I'd waste my time on someone who could only get as far ahead as he could deepthroat."

Dorian let out a strangled snort, but quickly regained his composure. "Ignoring the fact that I'm not even sure that that makes sense, I certainly haven't said anything like _that_ to Blackwall."

"Oh, I don't doubt it. What I'm trying to say is that you and him seem to have very different senses of humor. You're humor is similar to mine: nothing's sacred, nothing's off-limits, and it's mostly for personal entertainment. All snark, no bark. Blackwall's humor is...hm." I pursed my lips in thought. "Non-existent, as far as I can tell. Although I do hear that he gets along well with Sera, so maybe you just need to throw in the words 'shite' and 'pissbucket' every once in a while so he can get that you're just joking."

"Indeed!" He let out a laugh.

"You two are sort of like oil and water. You don't naturally mix. He thinks you're a poncy noble tit, and you think he's a thuggish, thick-skulled brute. Once something happens that shows you that neither of you are particularly correct, it'll act like a sort of emulsifier, and you'll get along fine after. Until then, _try_ to be civil."

"That's be easier if he stopped calling me a magister. Why does everyone assume that every mage from Tevinter is a magister?"

"Oh my _fuck_ , don't you DARE start on that, Dorian. I swear on Andraste's razor-sharp titsicles that I WILL tell Cullen you're a blood mage and have him send templars to follow you around everywhere you go."

My threat didn't work. "Oh, and then you'd be in his debt! I could suggest a few ways to pay him pack..." He grinned and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"What are you even doing with your face right now." He continued to waggle his brows. "Seriously. Why are you doing that."

"Let me set the scene for you: the terrible magister has been neutralized by southern templar techniques. The day was saved, and after much revelry and excess, everyone retires to their chambers to sleep off their intoxication. Our strapping young Commander returns to his chambers and is greeted by you, waiting for him. At some point during the night's festivities, you decided to change into something more _comfortable_. Preferably something slinky and silk." He waggled his eyebrows again.

"Urgh..." I slouched further into my chair and covered my face with my hand. "This is terrible, and you're a terrible person. Please stop saying words."

He ignored me. "Ambience! His office is illuminated by soft torchlight. The doors are closed and locked. It's quite warm - a bit _too_ warm - but there's the occasional cool breeze that makes it in through the windows and leaves goosebumps across your skin."

"Wow...have you been brainstorming with Varric while he writes _Swords and Shields_? Because this is _just as terrible_."

Dorian scowled. "Shush, you." He waved a hand at me flippantly as he continued. "He seems confused but intrigued as he slowly approaches where you've perched yourself on the edge of his desk, and asks you if there's anything he can do for you. You look up at him coyly, batting your pretty little lashes at him, and reply sensuously, 'Why _yes_ , Commander, there _is_.'" His voice cracked slightly as he tried to imitate my voice.

"That sounds nothing like me, for the record." I grimaced. "Are you almost done?"

He shooshed me again. "He's in full armour, of course, so you saunter your way over to him, holding his eyes with a sultry gaze as you remove that silly fur _thing_ he wears." He wrinkled his nose slightly. "Anyway. You remove it, and let it fall to the ground as you bite your lip. You get in close enough to practically feel the heat of his body and look up at him through your lashes. 'You saved us all today from that wicked magister,' you say, your voice low and smooth like velvet. 'We're in your debt. _I'm_ in your debt. Let me _repay you_.'" His eyebrows began to waggle anew.

"By the Maker's flaccid footlong dong!" I flipped around in my chair like I was in physical pain. "You can NOT have come up with all of that on the spot!" I threw myself forward and sat with my hands on my knees as I fixed Dorian with an angry stare. "You've been talking with Varric, haven't you?"

He shrugged lightly. "I _may_ have come across him one evening while he was writing a new chapter for one of his books, and I _may_ have stopped to help him, and we _may_ have spoken at length about two certain people and their _obvious_ attraction to one another." The eyebrows waggled again. I prayed he would pull a muscle.

"Oh for fuck...goddamn _twatwaffles_..." I crossed my arms and scowled. "This is going to become a thing, isn't it? 'I'm kind of bored. Oh hey! I know! Let's go mock Dawn!'"

"We're not _mocking_ you." His response was sincere, but his expression quickly turned into a mischievous smirk. "But it _is_ fun to watch you squirm."

"You and Varric are terrible people, and I hope you feel terrible about yourselves." I stood up and grabbed a random book from a nearby shelf, waving it in his face. " _This_ was all I came here for. Not a fictional story about..." I pressed my mouth into a thin line. "Bah! I'm going now! Goodbye!" I stormed off toward the stairs.

"But we haven't even gotten to the good part!"

I ignored him and kept walking back toward my room, only stopping to give Varric a death glare and point at him menacingly for a moment. "YOU! This is YOUR FAULT!"

He looked around himself in confusion. "Me? What did I do?"

"Terrible things! TERRIBLE!" I gave him a furious 'nyeh' before continuing on my way.

As soon as I got back to my room I locked the doors and jumped onto my bed. I cracked the book open and groaned. Out of EVERYTHING in that library, and ALL of the available books, I HAD to grab _Swords and Shields_. Just my luck.

I threw it across the room and opted for a nap instead.

* * *

Bleh. Romance stuff. Bleh. Why did I write that? I DON'T KNOW. It just keeps happening and I find it disturbing. If you also find it disturbing, let me know. Otherwise I'll just sit here and be disturbed alone.


	9. 9: Varric and Dorian are assholes

REVIEW AND YE SHALL BE HEARD!

1) This Dawn/Cullen romance is ON LIKE DIDDY KONG. Prepare thyself for the awkwardness and inevitable teasing from everyone! HUZZAH!

2) MOAR COLE saying weird things that nobody understands. I'll try to do him justice, with his weird rhyming alliterations and all, but that seems like a lot of effort and I make no promises. I make negative promises on that, in fact.

3) SPOILER ALERT for the Splinter Cell games. Vague spoiler. Skip Cole's dialogue right after Sam Fisher's mentioned if you're all like 'NUUUU DON RUIN IT FOR MEEEEEE MAYBEEEEEE'.

* * *

CH 9: Varric and Dorian are assholes

It was late when I left Josie's office. Inky had done something notable and Skyhold had been inundated with all sorts of letters, coming from all over the continent. And it ALL went through Josephine first. Offers of support, primarily monetary, went to Josie right away. Then there were people requesting aid with all manner of things, from closing Fade rifts to helping find miscellaneous items lost along the road by spoiled nobles. Those were piled on the floor beside Josie's desk for the time being. Invitations to parties were looked at right after the support offers, and marriage proposals went straight to Leliana. I had a pile of those bundled together with twine and ready to be taken to the rookery. I was stopped short in the main hall by the suspicious sight of Varric and Dorian huddled together at Varric's usual table, talking softly and giggling at one another like a couple of school girls.

That was never a good sign.

I slowly wandered over and noticed Varric taking notes. They wouldn't...I crept closer until I could hear what they were saying. It was late enough to be dark outside, so the hall was basically empty. That gave me room to creep around outside of the firelight's radius, so they didn't notice me right away. I felt like Sam Fisher, and the soundtrack to Chaos Theory played in my head. I hummed stealthily to myself as I crouched and got closer to the two. Dun dun, dun dun, dun DUN, duh duh doo doo doo...

"She wasn't _really_ dead."

I managed to not scream when Cole popped up behind me without warning. I put a hand delicately over my rcaing heart and gave shot an incredulous look. He blinked back with his ponderous blue eyes.

"She wasn't! Lambert did it to protect him."

"Great, now _piss off_." I hissed quietly as I motioned for him to go away. He disappeared at some point when I was blinking. "Way to ruin the plot for me, Cole. Maker's sweaty nutsack..." I went back to my creeping, and rested on my heels when I was close enough to make out what they were saying.

Varric tapped his pen on his chin pensively. He didn't use a quill like Josie. It was more of a calligraphy pen, with nibs. Must have been a dwarven thing. I vaguely wondered if it was also named Bianca. "She has to be wearing something _heavier_ at first, Sparkler. You can't just walk around castle grounds in what basically amounts to a silk underthing and not expect to get noticed."

Dorian clucked his tongue and pouted. " _Fine_. Have it your way, dwarf. Some sort of robes, then?"

Varric's eyes lit up. " _Mage_ robes!"

Dorian grinned. "A little bit of roleplay? I _like_ it!"

I could feel a burning pit of rage growing in my stomach. He _wouldn't_...they wouldn't!

"This is good stuff, Sparkler!" Varric scribbled some things down. "We'll have to add some more details and dialogue to previous paragraphs to pull through the changes, but that won't take too much effort. Now, where were we..." He flipped a couple pages ahead and grinned. "Right. She sidled up real close to the commander and purred, 'Let me repay you.'"

Oh, for the unholy love of Maferath's member, _Varric_ was doing the fake squeaky girl voice now.

"Right!" Dorian clapped his hands together and sat up straight. "This is the point where she ran away!" He splayed his hands on the table palm down and appeared to be deep in thought. A novel concept. "His overcoat is gone, but he's still in full armour. They should fix that before moving anywhere else."

"She ran her hands down the front of his ornate armour, and worked at the bindings on the side with her..." Varric paused his narration. "Are her hands slender? Delicate?"

Dorian hummed under his breath. "Can't say I've noticed."

"Judging by the way she slaps the side of my head, I'd say 'heavy and mannish.'" Varric rubbed the side of his head ruefully. "Doesn't really play well into the story, though."

THOSE ASSHOLES.

I couldn't take it anymore. I stood up fully and walked over to the table. "What are you two up to?"

"Perfect timing!" Dorian grabbed the wrist of my hand closest to him and examined my hand. "Definitely delicate and slender. She has some nice nails, too. And surprisingly small wrists, not unlike those of an underfed child slave."

"Well that's just an awkward comparison." I pulled my hand away from him and scowled before giving him a good slap on the shoulder. "What are you doing!? I can't believe you'd actually take this shit to Varric! And YOU." I moved my glare to Varric, who was scribbling more words down on the vellum. "What the fuck, man! Seriously!"

"You don't understand, Princess!"

Dorian tapped him on the shoulder. "You should work that nickname into the story."

"Good point." He scribbled it down quickly and looked back at me again. " _This_ is the sort of shit people eat up, _especially_ in times like these. Two people from different stations, a forbidden love found in the midst of war - this is the shit _legends_ are made of!"

"I thought you hated writing romance novels!" I whined back at him. It was true. He had complained to me multiple times over the course of writing the last chapter of _Swords and Shields_. Naturally, I helped him out with such phrases as 'I don't care' and 'fuck off already.' Maybe this was revenge.

"I don't, and I'm not. Sparkler here is supplying the action. I'm just cleaning it up a bit."

"I see. Just polishing his verbal knob, as it were." I winked at Varric, who rolled his eyes. "But seriously. Other people can't read this. I'm serious."

"Don't worry!" Dorian stood up and gently took me by the arm. "All the names have been changed. Nobody will even guess it's about you and our Commander!" He guided me toward the door to the rotunda. "You look tired. You should finish up with your work and get some rest." He opened the door, pushed me through, gave me a gentle tap on the ass and closed the door behind me.

"Hey! Oh, you _asshole_." I hissed between my teeth. I glared at the door for a few seconds before heading off with a huff. I grumbled all the way to the rookery, unceremoniously plopped the bundle of letters on Leliana's desk, and grumbled all the way back downstairs. Solas had taken to spending the nights in the Inquisitor's quarters, so there was no one to disturb with my dark mumbling. I threw the door back to the hall open and looked over to see Cole conferring with the two men. All three of them looked over at me, Cole with his usual deer-in-headlights expression, and the other two with wicked grins on their face. And with another blink, Cole was gone. "That's not _fair_!"

"All's fair in love and writing." Varric chuckled back. It was his turn to get up and take me by the arm. "Don't worry, Princess. It's not like I'm going to send this in to my editor for publication, it's just a little bit of _fun_." He lead me toward the main doors. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it. You won't wake up one day to see everyone in Skyhold holding a copy of _Her Lover's Command_. Working title." He shrugged and pushed me out onto the landing. "Get some rest, Princess. I'm sure you'll have plenty more work to do tomorrow once word of the Inquisitor's exploits in Crestwood spreads a bit further."

I sputtered angrily. "Friendship off, Varric! You hear me? FRIENDSHIP OFF!" I turned and watched him walk back into the hall, leaving me alone on the landing, yelling like a lunatic. Once again I set off with a huff, this time toward the tavern. I needed a drink.

It was mostly empty. There were a few stragglers here and there, finishing up their last bit of drink before turning in for the night. Cabot gave me a glare as a approached the bar. "Please, Cabot. Just one drink. I've had a stressful day."

He grunted at my pitiful wheedling and filled a tankard with an amber coloured ale. " _Fine_."

"Thank you!" I chirped as I grabbed my drink and sat down. Once seated, I ruminated darkly over what had happened. My festering was interrupted when Bull foisted his immense weight onto the seat across from me. I braced for another interview. He noticed me tense up and raised his hands in a show of conciliation.

"Don't worry, no interrogation tonight."

I relaxed visably and took a long drink from my mug. "What's on your mind, Bull?"

He grinned. "Oh, just thinking about that story idea Varric and Dorian ran past me earlier. You really got it bad for the Commander, huh?"

"OH MY GOD." I slapped my hands on the table.

"Whoah! Calm down there, kitten." He patted both of my hands with one of his. Maker, they were like giant pancakes. Giant, hand-shaped pancakes. "What's the problem?"

I sputtered. "What-what's the problem? What's the _problem_?" I ground my teeth with rage. "Why don't you use your fucking ultimate powers of Ben-Hassrath perception and figure out what my fucking _problem_ is!"

"Bah, you're just wound up too tight." He leaned back and waved a hand at me. "You need to loosen up. _Relax_. I can help with that, you know." Cue eyebrow waggle.

I took a page out of Cassandra's book and made a disgusted noise. "I just need to...if they would...you can't just..." I flailed about a bit before slumping over in misery, resting my forehead on the table and letting out a low, constant note of suffering until I ran out of breath.

"They're doing this to help you. Well, partially to torture you, but also to help you." I started to make the noise again. "Ugh, could you _stop_ that?" I did not. "Look, you're taking this _way_ too hard."

I paused. "That's what she said." We both snickered. I felt slightly better.

"That's better." He reached over and patted me on the shoulder. "You should head to bed and get some rest."

"Why does everyone keep saying that to me?"

"Because you look like a hot mess." He gave me a sympathetic smile. "You'll feel better after a good night's rest." There was a pause. "And you know, people sleep _way_ better after an orgasm. Just saying." He winked.

"I'll take that under advisement." I grumbled and finished of the rest of my ale before standing up. "I'm leaving now. Don't follow me." With that I made my way to my room and collapsed on the bed. I really must have been tired, because I fell asleep almost instantly and dreamed of sorting paperwork. If that was what the Fade was for most people, it was _boring shit_ and I didn't see what all the hubbub was about.

* * *

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dreeeammmmm

Feel free to leave a review if you have something to say. Want me to write more about a certain character? Maybe your cat threw up on your carpet and your upset? Can't get your pancakes to look like proper Bull hands? Let me know!


	10. 10: Goddamnit, Cole!

CH 10: Goddamnit, Cole!

Over the next few days, I noticed that Varric and Dorian were shadowing me as much as possible. It was easy to miss at first. It wasn't weird to see them at the tavern, or in the hall, or in the library. But it _was_ weird to see them both hanging around in the garden whenever Cullen and I were playing a game of chess. And I didn't even notice that until Cullen pointed it out.

"What are those two doing?" He paused while moving a piece across the board, looking nonplussed.

I turned in my seat to look. "What are who... _those two_." I narrowed my eyes as they stopped watching us and pretended to inspect a nearby elfroot. I turned back to Cullen and sighed. "Don't pay any attention to them. They've been stalking me for almost a week now."

He put his piece down and looked at me questioningly. "Why would they do that?"

"Psh, I don't know." I shrugged and moved my piece. I couldn't tell him about the stupid book, and if anyone had mentioned Dorian's exposition from the library to him, he wasn't letting on. "Just...let them be weird. Whatever." I wiped my hand over my face and refocused on the game. Cullen moved another piece.

"Check."

Shit. I reached out to grab my king and move it to temporary safety when Cole popped up right beside me. I flinched in surprise and knocked chess pieces all over. " _Shit_. Cole! Grah!" I made incoherent angry noises at him for a moment. He just stared back.

"A strip of lace, a pretty face." He paused. "What's eugenics?"

"It really makes a case! Except it's a terrible thing. Never speak of it again." I got out of my chair and started picking up the chess pieces that I had knocked clean off the board. "Sorry Cullen. We'll call that a win from you and start a new game."

He was setting up the board again. "How about we just call it a scratch and start over?"

"Sure." I stood and placed the pieces I had gathered on the board, but noticed one I had missed on the ground behind my chair. "Shit. One more." I bent over the back of my chair to quickly grab it and was startled by Cullen angry exclamation and the sound of his knee hitting the board.

"Maker's breath!" I spun around to face him and was confused until I saw Cole bent over his shoulder, looking confused.

"But you-"

"I have no idea what you just said, but that's enough, Cole. Off you go now." I shooed him away gently. "Go help people who _need_ help. Start with those two." I pointed to Varric and Dorian, who were trying their best to suppress their laughter. "Make sure you tug _real_ hard at whatever knots you find in them."

Cole wandered over to Varric and studied him intensely for a moment. "Soft eyes, smiling, shining, scheming. A quarter turn, but never a full one. That would mean the story's over. But what would you have without it?"

The smile slid off of Varric's face. "That's enough, kid."

It was Dorian's turn to go under the spirit's microscope. "Your eyes are just like his. It opens old wounds...fighting, forcing, festering. His words in the tavern cleaned the wound, but you haven't decided if you want to let it heal. You'll feel better if you do."

"This isn't much fun." Dorian observed, a dark look clouding his features.

"YOU DON'T FUCKING SAY." I called at them, giving them both the finger. I turned back to Cullen and sighed. He had busied himself with setting up the board once again. "We should pick this up another time."

"Right." He quickly got to his feet. I caught his arm before he had a chance to bolt.

"Whatever Cole said to you, nobody else heard it."

He visibly relaxed, and I let go of his arm. "Good. I mean-"

I gave him a crooked smile. "You mean 'good.'"

He chuckled then glanced around the garden, frowning slightly. Cole was nowhere to be seen. Neither were Varric or Dorian. Cullen let out a quiet, tired sigh. "I'm sure he'll be back to finish that conversation...I should be on my way." He gave me a polite nod and left.

"See you later." I plopped down into my chair and huffed. Those two...they were _terrible_. I spent the afternoon mulling over what Cole had said to them, and made a mental note to ask Bull or Leliana about it later. Either one of them would probably have a better idea.

The next few days were uneventful in every sense of the word. We were still getting an inordinate amount of mail, which kept me busy throughout the day, and I mostly hid in my room at night so as to avoid another run-in with Cole or the other two stalkers. I hadn't seen them around as much, which was simultaneously a relief and a cause for worry. They weren't out in the field. The Inquisitor was planning a trip into the Western Approach, so everyone was currently in Skyhold. But where were Varric and Dorian hiding?

I didn't have a clue until I walked into Josie's office one morning and saw her quickly hide something under her desk. A startled look crossed her features briefly before they settle back into her pleasant business expression. A mask. "Oh, good morning Dawn. I wasn't expecting you so early." She scratched behind her ear nervously, but her smile was relaxed and warm.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Don't try to play that game with me, Josie. What are you hiding?" I made my way over to her desk.

"What? Oh, nothing. It's just, uh...more letters. We've received _so_ many letters!" She chirped back airily.

"Oh, _yes_. We've received _so_ many letters I've had to resort to reading them with my vagina!" I mimicked her voice and accent passably. A faint blush crept up her neck. "What are you hiding?"

"Candy." She replied flatly. "I had some specially ordered from Antiva. They're my favourite, and I was just indulging in one or two." She looked down at her hands hidden from my view, her expression appropriately contrite. "I was hiding them so I didn't have to share. Forgive me."

"Candy, huh?" I stared at her until she looked up and into my eyes. "What sort of candy?"

"Caramels." She seemed confident, but there was a flash of fear in her eyes.

Oh yes, Josephine Montilyet. I _got you_.

I sniffed delicately and perched my ass on her desk. "Oh yeah? I've had caramels before. Delicious, golden, _chewy_ caramel. Gets stuck in your teeth for _hours_ , yeah?" She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Which is funny, because the only thing you have in your mouth is LIES!" I smacked her desk to punctuate my point. "Now. What are you hiding? No more words. Just put it _right here_." I tapped the space on her desk right in front of her. She sighed heavily and set a bound stack of vellum on her desk. It looked suspiciously like a book. A book that Varric and Dorian were writing.

I snatched it up and looked at the front. "Are you fucking serious." _Her Lover's Command_. "They couldn't even be bothered to change that terrible title? This is ALREADY terrible!"

"I can explain!" She cried out, reaching toward the book. I held it out of her reach and pointed menacingly.

"This is _friendship treason_ , Josie!"

"I didn't know what it was! They brought it in and said that they wanted someone to proofread it. Another set of eyes. After they explained the basic plot..." She clasped her hands together and sighed, a starry look in her eyes. "It's just so _romantic_!"

"Ugh. You and Cassandra should start a club..." I muttered darkly under my breath as I settled down into my usual chair and flipped through the book. It wasn't completed yet, from what I could tell. There were maybe two or three short chapters bound together. I pursed my lips. " _Fine_. I can't really hold it against you, I guess. But I'm still not happy about this!"

"Why don't _you_ give it a read?" She quirked an eyebrow at me and smiled.

"I don't know...that fireplace is looking mighty inviting right about now." I mimed throwing the book into the hearth. Josie gasped.

" _No!_ They'll never forgive me!"

"Oh, they probably have another copy of it stashed somewhere." I scowled. "They're terrible, not _stupid_." I stared blankly at the cover page, a ball of dread nestled snugly in my stomach. I decided to bite the bullet. "I'll read it. But I'm going to hate every second of it."

Josie just giggled. "Oh, but make sure to give it back when you're done. I haven't had a chance to finish it yet."

"I won't go anywhere with it." The last thing I needed was anybody ever to come up and ask me what I was reading. _Oh, just a smutty fanfiction my two asshole friends decided to write about me and the Commander. No big deal._ Yeah. Right. I forced myself to flip to the first page.

 _Chapter One: First Blush_

I was already vomiting in my mouth.

* * *

FilmCow reference - check out the Ferret song. You'll catch it.

The next few chapters might take a while. If I can get my writing pants on and git'r'dun, it'll be worth it. Or I might just end up crying in the corner while stuffing my face with chocolate bars over my failure. Whatever.


	11. KITTENS

I had trouble writing this chapter. It got deleted a few times before this version happened. This version didn't make me upset, so I kept it.

* * *

CH 11: In which KITTENS!

I couldn't read the book. It was too horrible. I gave up after they had described the characters' eyes as both pools and orbs, along with other painfully long descriptions of physiques and clothing and faces. But the eyes. _Maker, the eyes..._

I got up and tossed the book onto Josephine's desk. It landed with a dull thud. She looked up at me with interest. "You read the whole thing already?"

"Dear _lord_ no. The first few paragraphs were suffering enough. Next time just sucker punch me in the back of the head. I'm sure the experience would be comparable." I pushed the offending 'literature' toward her. "Feel free to continue reading, but know that I think slightly less of you for it." I was joking. Well, mostly joking.

"It's not _that_ horrible..." She picked the book up while muttering darkly under her breath, and quickly found where she had left off. "It might be a little bit wordy in the beginning, but once it gets to the action-"

"Stop. Just stop." I could imagine what she meant by 'action.' "You just enjoy your novel. I'm going to leave now." I made my way to the great hall and noticed Varric and Dorian sitting at Varric's usual table, both looking quite smug as they read a letter. I made my way over to them. "What are you two so happy about?"

"Oh, nothing." Varric casually answer while not so casually moving the letter out of my sight. "Just...a letter from my editor."

"Uh huh." I quirked an eyebrow and shifted my gaze to Dorian, who simply smiled and nodded. "Whatever you say. I just wanted to let you know that Josephine let me see the copy of the book you're working on."

"Ah, shit..." Varric cursed quietly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I concur. It _is_ shit. I couldn't even fight my way through the first page." The look of relief of Varric's face was bothersome. Dorian looked almost disappointed. "Orbs, Varric? _Orbs_? And the descriptions...by the Maker's bagwrinkles! Have you ever heard of the term 'overkill?'"

"Trust me, Princess. The nobles eat that shit up!" He looked up at me with a crooked grin as I crossed my arms and frowned. "The flowing dresses, the furtive glances, the forbidden love! They- HEY!" As he was waving his hands around emphatically, I snatched the letter away from him and gave it a look.

" _The Randy Dowager Quarterly_? You sent a copy of that garbage to the _Randy Dowager_? And they're printing it?!" I stared at the letter in disbelief, my mouth agape, until he snatched it back.

"In their next publication, even!" Dorian cut in cheerfully.

I chewed on my lip angrily. It was obviously too late to do anything about that particular fact, and it wasn't like the target audience of Orlesian noble knobs would know that it was a 'friendfic.' But I wasn't going to just let it go. "You're getting paid for this?"

"Yes..." Varric's eyes narrowed.

"I want a cut of the profits."

He laughed. "Or what?"

I hadn't thought of that. "I...don't know. But I'll think of something! Maybe I'll get Sera to help. She's good at coming up with pranks." I recalled the time she set up a bucket of water on the top of the door to my room. She and the Inquisitor had done the same thing to Josie, which resulted in hilarity. I just got hit in the head with a heavy metal bucket and ended up laying on the floor for a while, soaked and unconscious, bleeding from a minor head wound. My memories of the incident were fuzzy. I found myself absent-mindedly rubbing the small scar on my scalp and quickly returned my hand to my side. "I take no personal responsibility for any injuries that may be incurred as a result."

Dorian crinkled his nose slightly. "That's not fair."

"You don't get to tell me what's fair and what isn't, Dorian. You're not my real mom."

"That...doesn't even make sense." He said back, looking rather nonplussed. I shrugged.

"That sounds like a _you_ problem." I pointed at him and winked. "I want 15% of the profits you make off of this book."

"Net or gross?" Varric shot back. I raised my eyebrows.

"Well, if you're giving me a choice, the answer is gross. Duh."

He cursed under his breath and sighed. "Fine. It's a deal. No pranks, though! I'd like to avoid any unnecessary injuries from Sera's 'pranks.'"

I shook his and Dorian's hands firmly and smiled. "Deal. Oh, but the deal is void if you hold out on me." I gave them both a warning glare before I made for the garden door. "I have an appointment to keep. Ta!"

Cullen was already waiting at the chess board, sitting with his elbows on the arms and his chin resting in his closed hands. A slight frown pulled at the corners of his mouth. I sat down opposite him. "Is something bothering you, Cullen? You look worried."

His brows un-furrowed with mild surprise as he sat up straight in his chair. "What? Oh, no. I just..." The look of concern took over his features once again. "I ran into Cassandra on the way over, and she was acting rather... _peculiar._ "

"Peculiar how, exactly?" I had an idea of what caused her odd behavior. I sure as shit wasn't going to say anything about the stupid book, though. If he found out...that was future me's problem. I had faith in her.

"She seemed flustered, and quickly excused herself." He was setting up the board for us to play chess. Someone had left it in a right mess.

"Huh. That does sound somewhat odd." I shrugged. "If you'd like, I can go check on her later." I picked up the chess piece that was shaped like a lion and made it walk the perimeter of the table while making little 'roar' noises. "Meow meow meow! Rawr rawr rawr!"

"If you could do that, that would...be..." He lost his train of thought as he watched me play with the chess piece. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing useful or intelligent." Now the lion was flying above the board while I made a pathetic excuse for a chaingun noise. "Ratta tat tat tat tat tat! RRREAAAOOOOOOOWWWWWW" I made a few explosion noises as I knocked over his rooks. "Oh no! They're preparing the atom bomb! Don't do it! TOO LATE!" I made a whistling noise as I slowly lowered the lion back to the board, and a protracted explosion noise as I carefully knocked over every other piece on the board. "There's total destruction within a one mile radius of the bomb's hypo-center! They're all instantly vaporized, their nuclear shadows, like painted figures on the ground, are the only grisly clue left of their existence. There are no winners, ONLY REGRETS." I shook my head sadly. "So many regrets."

Cullen blinked at me. "You're...not in the mood for chess, are you?"

"Not really." I sat back and slouched into my chair, letting out a puff of breath. "Sorry."

"It's not a problem." He went through the process of setting the pieces in their proper places again.

I suddenly remembered something I had overheard earlier. "I want to go look at the kittens!"

He paused and looked at me, confused. "...kittens?"

"Yeah!" I sat forward and clapped my hands together. "I overheard some of the scullery maids saying that one of the cats that hangs around the kitchen had kittens! It was a few days ago, so their eyes should be open and they should be moving around. I think." I shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Let's go check them out! And get a snack."

"I...okay." He seemed stunned as I dragged him to his feet and almost jogged to the grassy area behind the kitchen.

"I haven't seen kittens in a long time! When I was a kid, we always had kittens on the acreage. There were feral cats around, and sometimes you could get them to warm up to you and hang around if you fed them. Most of the ones that stuck around were females, since the males tend to wander further and are more likely to disappear for various reasons. Anyway, the lady cats would usually end up having a litter of kittens, so most years we had little baby kitties around for a while." I smiled fondly at the memories of my brothers and I playing in the front yard with the year's batch of kittens, my older brother gently bumping them together and pretending they were wrestling dolls while my younger brother and I laughed. It felt bittersweet. "Anyway, before I moved out we had two female cats that each had litters. The nice cat had a big litter, and then disappeared. The mean cat only had two kittens, and they both died shortly after birth, so she adopted the other litter and taught them to fear people like she did. We had to catch them and give them away, but there was one male cat that we couldn't get our hands on, so we had to keep him. He was a long haired black and white asshole I named Fluffums. So, he stuck around for a while and kept other cats off the property, and then after a few years he disappeared too. No more kittens."

"That's too bad." Cullen observed softly. I shrugged.

"Not really. Stupid things shat in the flower beds. I remember my dad gagging when he had to dig it up to get rid of it all." I shuddered as I remembered the smell. "It was pretty horrible. That's a smell you can't unsmell. Oh, kitties!" I clapped and pointed as they came into sight. There were seven of them, playing around in the grass. A bowl of milk sat nearby. "I hope the maids have gotten them used to people. They have _sharp_ little claws." I pranced my way over and plopped down on the grass near them. They came toddling over, mewling at me. "THEY'RE SO CUTE!"

Cullen plunked down beside me and sighed. "I don't see what the-"

"SHUT UP AND HOLD THIS!" I plopped a little calico into his hands, then picked up a particularly affectionate black kitten for myself. "Look at these little poopers! Little floofer floofs!" I gently scritched the top of the kitten's head and was rewarded with a tiny purr. I repressed the urge to squeal, but did not repress the urge to sneeze. "So it begins..."

Cullen glanced at me as he awkwardly tried to prevent the cat from wandering out of his hands. "What begins?"

" _Allergies_." I sniffled mightily and set the kitten down in my lap. "I'm allergic to cats."

He deposited the cat on the ground and gave me an incredulous look. "Why are you playing with kittens, then?"

"One: it's not a fatal allergy. I get sniffly and sneezy, my eyes itch if I touch them before washing my hands, and I might get small welts if the cat gets its nose damp or eye goop on me. Two: LOOK AT THEM. I LOVE CATS." I shoved the cat in his face. He instinctively backed away. "I LOVE them." I brought the cat to my chest and cuddled it. It struggled to get away. I sneezed again. "Maybe I should put it down..." I plopped it back on the ground and watched it stumble away to where its siblings were play fighting. I sighed and sniffled. "It's not fair...oh well. At least I'm not allergic to dogs." I sniffled again as my nose continued to produce more and more snot. "I should probably hide in my room until my face calms down." Another sneeze and sniffle combo followed my statement.

"I'll bring you some tea." Cullen got to his feet and offered me a hand, which I gratefully took. He easily pulled me to my feet and looked at me with alarm and concern as I continued to sneeze and snork and snort like that one kid everyone knew in grade school. The one that ALWAYS had a cold and was continually making gross noises while the teacher was trying to explain something.

"I'd appreciate that." I replied, fighting another sneeze. He gave me a nod and sent me on my way. I ignored the worried looks people gave me on my way past. Thankfully, none of them tried to talk to me. Maybe they thought I was crying...it was no matter. I made it back to my room without incident and plopped down heavily onto the edge of my bed. I just sat and sniffled miserably until Cullen showed up with a small tea pot and a cup on a plain wooden platter.

"Here." He set it down beside me. "Dorian was hanging about and told me that he uses this to deal with his allergies." Cullen stared off into the distance, a dark look in his eyes. "Rather suspicious that he just _happened_ to be there..."

I let out a soft 'huh' as I poured the tea into the small cup. "I'm surprised Varric wasn't right there with him." I took a sip and grimaced as it burned my tongue. "Ow."

"He was, actually. Are you alright?"

"Eh, just burned my mouth. I do it every time I drink tea." I shrugged and took another sip. Yep. Still too hot to drink. "Ow."

Cullen shook his head. "Why don't you let it cool down?"

"Don't tell me how to live my life!" I took another sip. "Ow. My impatience has resulted in a high pain tolerance, at least."

He sighed. "I'm not going to stand here and watch you burn yourself because you can't wait."

"Fair enough." Sip. "Ow! Why hasn't this demon tea cooled down yet?"

He chuckled as he closed the door behind him.

"See you later!" I made myself comfortable on my bed and closed my eyes contentedly as I took another sip. "OW! GODDAMNIT!"

* * *

I cannot be trusted with hot beverages.

I _wanted_ to actually write Varric and Dorian's friendfic, but I can't. I just can't. I tried, and could not. Perhaps someone more inclined toward writing in the style of intentionally bad harlequin romance novels could, but it causes me physical and psychological pain to even try. My apologies. It's open to anyone else, if you want to try. I'd read that. I just wouldn't write it. Hah.

Feel free to leave a review. I like feedback and comments and random statements and/or questions like 'Have you ever wondered if those plastic-covered cheese slices are just the dried up film off of the Cheez Whiz factory barrels?', and I would reply 'Yes. Yes I have wondered that exact thing. I also wonder if Cheez Whiz factories have barrels that the store hot Cheez Whiz in.'


	12. Winking and Nightmares

I forget where I was going with any of this ever.

* * *

CH 12: In which Cassandra is spoken to, Bull can't technically wink, and nightmares are discussed

I awoke, as usual, when the sunshine's slow creep along my face finally made it to my eyes. I started with an audible snork and cringed as my retinas were greeted by the burning orb's blinding rays. Sometimes I was lucky enough to have shifted to a position with my face buried in my blankets or pillow, but today was definitely not one of those days.

Resigned to my state of wakefulness, I sat up and forced myself out of bed. The sounds of people yelling and swords clanging brought a lovely scowl to my face. The Inquisitor had decided that the bailey was to be used as a secondary training area, much to Cullen's and Cassandra's delight, and my consternation. I was pretty sure she did it under Solas' advisement. _Solassssssss!_

I took a moment so shake my fist in his general direction before making myself presentable. It was pretty easy, since there was no fancy hair or makeup products for me to have fun with. Hair goes up in the only elastic I had with me, face cream goes on, put on adult pants and shirt, enter the world to seek out coffee like a templar after maleficarum. The dirty 'c'. Morning juice.

I was pretty sure I was the only one who called coffee by those names. In fact, I only ever called it morning juice. I had no idea where 'the dirty 'c'' had come from...I banished it from my mind. It was no longer welcome in my brain space.

Cabot and I exchanged our morning grunts of acknowledgement as I took my beverage to my usual spot and planted my ass. I enjoyed a moment of silence as I stared at nothing in particular. It was nice to not have anything to do for the day. Lavellan hadn't done any huge feat of heroism as of late, so paperwork had become more scarce and easily taken care of by its recipients. That meant less (read: _nothing_ ) for me to do.

After the lion chess piece stunt, Cullen had brought me a creepy children's doll made of straw with burlap clothes and beedy black eyes that caught the light with a malicious glint. I was pretty sure it was actually a voodoo doll, but the hair colour was wrong so at least it wasn't supposed to have been me. He had meant it as a joke. Ha ha, how about you play with dolls instead of chess pieces, you weirdo. I used the doll to knock over all the chess pieces while bellowing 'HULK ANGRY HULK SMASH.' I then asked him if he could bring kittens next time.

He informed me that he would not bring kittens. Not ever. He also made me reset the chess board.

I kept the doll on my dresser, but made it face the wall. I couldn't fall asleep under the glinting stare of Satan's coal black eyes. I said none of this to anyone. My suffering was endured silently.

I was snapped back to attention when Cassandra entered the tavern. She looked quite flustered as she grabbed a drink from the bar. I caught here attention and waved her over. She seemed uncertain, but sat down opposite me.

"I meant to talk to you about something earlier, but forgot because forgetting is a talent of mine." She eyed me curiously while taking a drink. "Cullen mentioned to me a few days ago that you were acting a bit _strange_. That wouldn't happen to be related at all to a book that may or may have been co-authored by a particular dwarf and mage, would it?"

It took a mighty effort on her part to not spit take her beverage all over the table. "You _know_ about that?" Her eyes darted about the room furtively as she leaned in closer. "Does _he_ know about it?"

"Yes, and not a clue." I sighed. Still waiting for that to bite me in the ass somehow.

"It's even worse than _Swords & Shields_!" Cassandra's eyes were wide and bright with...excitement? Disgust? A combination of both? It was hard to tell. "And so much more _graphic_! That must have been the Tevinter's influence. I can't imagine Varric putting in that much effort explaining a-"

"Shoosh. I don't want to hear it." I rubbed my face and huffed. "I haven't read it. I will never read it. I simply know _of_ it. And that's ALL I want to know." I could feel a blush rising in my cheeks. Ugh... "Look. If you keep acting weird around him, he's going to ask why. And then what, Cassandra?"

She chewed her lip anxiously.

"Yeah. You're not a good liar, especially not on the spot. The alternative, however, is to tell him why you're acting weird. I honestly have no idea how he'd react to 'oh, I just read a smut story with a character based off of you' as a response, but I guess you could find out if you want to." I leaned back in my chair and crossed my arms nonchalantly.

" _Noooooo..._ " Cassandra hissed quietly through her teeth. "That dwarf...this is his fault. If he hadn't brought that book to me..."

"Don't worry." I patted her hand gently as a gesture of support. "We'll get through this together. I suggest that you somehow seemingly link your behaviour to that other series you read. Tell him that you've found yourself lost in thought over the latest chapter of a book series you've been reading, and it's a bit embarrassing to be caught off guard like that." I smiled triumphantly. "Just a little lying by omission. He doesn't have to know that the latest chapter you got from Varric wasn't for _Swords & Shields_."

She pursed her lips in thought, then nodded. "Yes, I suppose that would work. Better than the alternative, at least. Although..." She narrowed her eyes slightly. "I have to wonder why it was so easy for you to come up with that."

I shrugged. "A lifelong hobby of mine has been contingency planning. Something happens, and my mind immediately comes up with as many plans of possible action as is plausible. As I said, Cullen mentioned this to me a few days ago, and I had assumed that the reason we just discussed was most likely the cause for your strange behaviour, so I took the time to come up with a few possible plans of action. The one we just agreed upon happens to be the easiest to implement."

She frowned slightly. "That doesn't sound like much of a hobby."

"Oh, and reading smut is?" I raised my eyebrows haughtily, but couldn't repress a grin as a blush rose to her cheeks.

"We're done here." She grabbed her drink and stood to leave.

"Have a wonderful day, Cassandra!" I called after her, a shit-eating grin plastered on my face.

Not a bad start to the day. One problem potentially fixed. Still hadn't figured out a way to get out of going to the Winter Palace, though. The smile slid off my face at the thought. The date was looming ever closer. It was like watching the blackened edge of a storm inch closer and closer, and you could do nothing but wait for it to hit and hope you made it through.

"You look pretty glum, Princess." Bull took up Cassandra's now vacated seat across from me. My nostrils flared in anger as he propped his feet up on the table. I covered the opening of my cup and watched small clumps of dirt fall to the table top.

"Is that my official Inquisition nickname, now?" I lamented.

"Aw, come on! It's not _that_ bad. It's meant affectionately!" He smiled at me for a beat. "Mostly. HAH! Besides, I know _plenty_ of girls who love to be called Princess, and treated like one. If you know what I mean." He grinned and blinked.

"Wait...was that a wink? I can't tell, because...you know. _One eye_." I shut one eye and pointed to the other, just to make sure he knew what I was talking about.

He rolled his eye and sighed heavily. " _Yes_ , it was a wink."

"Maybe you should say so when you do it. Like, ha ha sex, _wink wink_. So people don't have to wonder if it was a wink or a particularly strong blink."

He rubbed his face with his hand and let out an exasperated groan as he lowered his feet to the floor. "I'd rather just leave it up to people to figure it out. I mean, there _is_ a difference between winking and blinking."

"Well, yeah. You wink one eye, while you blink both. But you only have one eye. It complicates things."

" _No,_ it _doesn't_. It's all about intention."

"I could get Dagna to make a googly eye and glue it on there. But then you'd always be winking. Hm..." I tapped my chin as I pondered his dilemma.

"This isn't a dilemma." He ground out angrily. "I have never had a problem with this before."

"Just because you haven't doesn't mean that somebody else hasn't." I retorted, not quite finished with bothering him yet. "Do you even care about how others feel? Or are you content to just winkyblink your way through everything, leaving swathes of confused but shy individuals in your wake, wondering if that was a blink or a wink? You're just a saucy flirt!"

He let out a bark of a laugh. "You had me going there."

"I still want to glue a googly eye to your eye patch. Just for shits and giggles."

"No."

I let out an over-exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine. Have it your saucy, saucy way."

"See? That's why a few people like you!" He clapped me on the shoulder. It hurt. It was like getting slapped with a giant, damp, lukewarm slice of bologne. I must have had a pained expression on my face. "Oh, sorry." He gave me a much more gentle pat on the shoulder and smiled apologetically.

"I'll forgive you if you stop winking at me."

"And _that's_ why some people _don't_ like you."

I shrugged my shoulders apathetically. "That sounds like their problem, not mine."

"Ugh..." He got to his feet and dusted off the table. "I'll talk to you later."

"Whatever whatevs." I went back to drinking my coffee. Finally.

After I had finished, I grabbed myself some snacks and sequestered myself in Dorian's usual spot in the library. I had wheedled Lavellan into taking them into the field after I found out that she was going back to the swamp of the undead. They would be super miserable there, and it entertained me so. I curled up in the plush chair and slogged through a rather ponderous tome concerning Ferelden culture, as suggested by Leliana. She had told me that I would fit in quite well in Ferelden once I learned a few of their cultural quirks, and then she had winked at me. I knew she had winked, because one eye closed while the other stayed open. Unless she blinked her eyes independently of one another, like some sort of lizard or amphibian...I shook that thought out of my head. No. Too weird.

Soon enough it was time for my daily chess match with Cullen. I made my way down to the garden and waited patiently for him to show up. I wasn't waiting long. I had the board set up and ready to go. He looked at me, and eyebrow cocked. "No antics today?"

I shrugged. "The creepy doll's in my quarters. Where did you get that, anyway?"

"I think Blackwall makes them out of scraps he finds."

"We need to make that stop. That is a thing of _nightmares_."

He chuckled somewhat darkly. "Nightmares. Right."

"Don't really have nightmares." We had been moving pieces. I was already losing. Nobody was surprised. "I mean, I guess I have dreams that some people would consider nightmares, but I don't. They lack that oppressive feeling of fear that characterizes them. They are horrible dreams, though."

"Oh?" I had no idea why he seemed so interested in my fucked up dreams.

"Yeah. Like...this one time, I had a dream that I was storing a dead, skinned body in the basement of my parents' house. It was just lying there, on the concrete floor, in an open body bag. All dead and skinless. My dad yelled at me to get it out of the house. I complained, because it was light outside and people would see me moving this body. He didn't care and told me to get it out anyway, so I did. I only got it halfway down the driveway before I half-ass threw i under a tree and went back inside. The next day the body had been moved, and someone had left notes in all the trees saying 'I know what you did', like it was a secret. It was _weird_."

The disturbed look on his face told me that he had stopped listening after 'dead skinned body.' I probably shouldn't have told him the whole dream. Well, hopefully it made him feel a bit better about whatever he happened to dream about. Probably templar stuff. Or reading reports. Or calibrating trebuchets.

"I would like to point out that most of my dreams are of the normal and mundane variety." I quickly added as a disclaimer. "It's just the really weird ones that get stuck in your head, you know?"

"Yeah..." He stared at the chessboard intensely for a long moment. "How do you deal with them?"

I pursed my lips in thought and gathered my words, gently shepherding them into a coherent response. "When I was young, I had a recurring nightmare about being murdered at a summer camp. That dream haunted me every night for _weeks_. Then, one night, I realized in my dream that I was dreaming, and I created and exit for myself. I succeeded in escaping. I never had that dream again." I paused. "I'm not entirely sure if that resolution was due to a brief moment of lucidity during the nightmare, or the resolution of a problem I had in my waking life, or a combination of both. But I can say that I have, on a few occasions, been able to influence my own dreams by realizing that it was a dream and changing certain elements. For example, I had a dream where I was being chased by a monster. I realized that I was dreaming, and actually changed the entire setting of my dream to something far more pleasant. I've only done that once, though. It's called lucid dreaming."

"Lucid dreaming." He echoed quietly, still deep in his own thoughts.

"Yes. I've heard that practice makes it easier. There's lots of techniques out there that are supposed to make it easier, but they're...involved. I had mild success after telling myself as I was laying down to sleep that I was going to dream soon, and that I am in control of my dreams. It wasn't completely lucid dreaming, but I did have very brief moments of lucidity on occasion. If I had kept practicing that every night, I would probably have been much better at it by now." I gazed at Cullen questioningly. His brows were furrowed, and he was still staring at the chessboard with unseeing eyes. "Are you ok?"

The phrase seemed to have snapped him back to reality. He shook his head slightly and looked at me, his expression somewhat pained. "Yes! I...no." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck ruefully. "Would you care to walk with me?"

"Uh, sure."

We walked together up to the battlements in silence, the death glare of thinking planted firmly on his face. People gave up a wide berth. We stopped in the quiet corner by the stables, and he stared out at the mountains for a long moment.

"I haven't slept well for years." He started. "Ever since Kinloch Hold...those memories have haunted me, every time I close my eyes."

That explained his almost terrifying work ethic, at least.

"Nightmares." I breathed quietly. "I understand. I read a bit about the fifth blight. The stories were vague, of course, but had enough details for me to be thankful for that fact." I chewed my bottom lip nervously. "Solas doesn't like me."

Cullen blinked at me, obviously confused.

"It's related! He doesn't like me because I don't have the same connection to the Fade as most of you do. It's there, so I'm not quite like the dwarves, but it's inaccessible to him, and that upsets him. So I dream differently. There's no demons to prey on my past, only my own asshole subconscious. So it's different. But Solas...he's a dream walker. That's his _shit_. He might be able to help."

Cullen pressed his lips into a thin line.

"Whoah, ok. I'm not saying you _have_ to ask him to help." I held up my hands in conciliation at his angry, piercing glare. "I'm just saying it's a possibility. You could also try lucid dreaming. Not sure how being all up in the Fade would affect that, but it's worth a try." I put my hand on his shoulder and smiled. "And if you ever want someone to talk to, I'm always here. My ears work WAY better than my words do. Listening is my natural state. I'm going to shut up now."

He put his hand over mine and managed a soft smile. "Thank you."

We stood there for a moment, just smiling at each other like a couple of knobs. "So, does that mean I won at chess today?"

He laughed heartily at that. "I was going to checkmate you in three moves."

"Shit."

* * *

That was a thing! A thing that happened! That was a thing that haaaaappened!

Yeuch...I keep writing sappy poop. But I'm Canadian, so at least the sap can be maple syrup. Amirite?

Feel free to leave a review! I'd love to hear from all you wonderful people!

Please.

(I'm so alone ha ha ha haaaaaa)


	13. A Smack in the Face

Oh hey! BOOM - More words for your face orbs. Let them drink it in like delicious cream frigging soda sliding down your sound hole, all sassy with its fizz. I don't know what I'm going on about anymore.

* * *

CH 13: A Smack in the Face

Have you ever had one of those days where everything seems to go wrong?

I should have known it was going to be one of those days. Things started out normal enough. I went to the tavern for my morning coffee, which I promptly spilled all over myself on my way to my usual table. After a bit of yowling in pain, I changed my clothes and went back for another cup, which I successfully managed to get into myself, rather than onto.

In the meantime, the sky which had started out a lovely shade of blue quickly darkened as black storm clouds made their way over the mountains and toward Skyhold. There had been short, light showers of rain from time to time, but the weather tended to be rather mild and almost perpetually spring-like. I had asked around about that. It seemed unnatural, especially considering how high we were in the mountains. The best answer had come from Solas. He had shrugged and replied, "Magic."

Fair enough.

After a quick breakfast of delicious plain oatmeal, I made my way to Josephine's office to help with the sudden influx of letters. After Lavellan had closed all of the rifts in the Hinterlands, letters of thanks, invitations and offers of livestock and whatnot had started rolling in.

Also, most couriers had been delayed getting back to Skyhold. Apparently, when you remove the things spawning hordes of demons, the bandits that the demons had previously driven off return. While it wasn't necessarily an issue as far as protection was concerned, as both Cullen and Leliana had people in the field to make sure that lines of communication were kept open and as safe as possible, it did require more caution. It was easy to spot a demon. It was harder to spot a bandit pretending to be a beggar or refugee. In short, travel had actually been slower than usual, with many couriers actually grouping together on the road for safety. Which meant that the fan mail got to Skyhold safe, but slower and in larger quantities.

That meant I had something to do again. Lucky me.

I entered her room to see her already furiously writing letters. There was a full bag of letters to her left, and three more sitting by the chair I usually occupied when I was working. She glanced up briefly and gave a relieved sigh.

"Thank _goodness_ you're here! Please help me go through all these letters!" She pointed toward the bags on the floor using her quill. "Some of these are from _weeks_ ago...I hope they understand the delay in our response." And with that, she began scribbling furiously again.

"One can only hope." I took off my coat, draping it across the back of the chair, sat down, and opened the bag closest to me, unceremoniously dumping its contents onto the floor in front of me. There was one letter that caught my eye. It seemed to be a finer vellum than most of the others, and had an impressive wax seal on the back. I picked it up and turned it over in my hands curiously. The writing on the front was very fancy and mostly illegible to me. I turned it around a couple of times, but the angle of viewing didn't change anything. "Hey Josie, this letter looks...different." I got up and held it out to her. "Can you read this?"

She gasped and snatched the letter from me. "Oh no...which bag was this in?"

"The one I just dumped all over the floor. Whichever one was closest to the chair over there." I shrugged.

She let out a disgruntled huff and used a small knife to dislodge the wax seal from the letter before she flipped it open and mumbled to herself as she read the script. She seemed to get very anxious as she finished reading, and quickly referenced something on her clipboard before letting out a small shriek. "That's TODAY!" She looked at me with wild eyes. "Dawn, you have to-"

We both jumped as a loud peal of thunder echoed through the castle. "Aw, no...I was hoping those storm clouds would just pass by." I whined.

"We don't have time for that!" Josphine jumped to her feet and grabbed her clipboard. "That letter was from the king of Ferelden, who is on his way here _right now_! According to the letter, he and his entourage will be arriving here within a day, so we need to prepare!" She began muttering to herself about rare cheeses and bed linens as she quickly flipped through pages of information. She suddenly stopped and pinned me with a glare. "What are you still doing here?! Go tell Leliana!"

"Wouldn't she already know?" I replied, and grunted in surprise as Josie grabbed me by the shoulders, spun me to face the door, and started pushing me toward it. "You'd think her people would have seen something like _that_ on the road!"

More thunder rang through the building, and there was the distinct sound of agitated voices coming from the hall. It must have started pouring, and everyone must have piled into the hall to avoid becoming drenched. There was some loud yelling happening, though...I eyed the door, now almost within an arm's reach, distastefully.

"I don't want to go out there, Josie! It sounds crowded!" I dug my heels in half-heartedly and frowned.

"Why do you always have to argue with me? Just go and inform Leliana that-"

There was the sound of Josie's door opening, and then I was on the floor, blood pouring from my face. It took me a moment to realize that someone had opened the door just as Josie was reaching out to open it herself, and I was caught in the middle. It smacked me square in the nose and I fell on my ass, stunned. Josie shrieked in surprise as I blinked rapidly, my vision a bit blurry from the pain radiating through my face.

A male voice I didn't recognize rang through the now quiet hall. "Whoops! Let's, uh...let's just get you back on your feet." Someone grasped my upper arm and helped me to my feet, then put a handkerchief over my nose and placed my hand over it so would hold it in place. "Aaaaand...there! All better!" The quiet pause was puncutated by the sound of the rain pouring outside. "Or not. Is there a healer around?"

I was quickly escorted and deposited in front of Solas in the rotunda he spent most of his time in. The two of us stood alone, in silence, for a moment. Did they just ditch me there without a word? Rude!

Did Solas even know healing magic?

"Cad you help by dose?" I asked. Or attempted to ask. I pointed to my face for good measure.

"Most likely." He pulled my hand away from my face and prodded at my poor nose. I yelped in pain. "Not broken, but maybe fractured. Here..." He held his hands in front of my face, palms facing me, and closed his eyes as he concentrated. I closed my eyes against the glow of the magic as he cast his spell or whatever. I wasn't entirely sure how the whole magic thing worked.

Healing magic didn't feel as nice as I thought it would. I was expecting a menthol breeze, or cooling touch, or some other comparably nice experience. What I got was the ultimate pins and needles experience. My eyes started to water as I grit my teeth together, determined to make it through the entire procedure without a sound. Thankfully it was over quickly. I let out a relieved sigh as the pins and needles faded, and my nose felt much better. I prodded at it tentatively, and nodded in satisfaction when it didn't hurt.

"Thanks, Solas! That magic thing...I like it."

He raised his eyebrows slightly, looking amused. "I'm glad you approve. Just be careful. The magic can help the healing process, but it does not replace it completely. Try not to damage your nose again any time soon, or it will end up worse than before."

"I'll keep that in mind." I did my best to wipe off whatever blood was left on my face with the clean parts of the handkerchief. "Am I covered in blood still?"

"Yes."

I looked down at my clothes. The blood would come off of the leather pants easily enough, but my shirt was light brown cotton and it was _soaked_ with blood. "Ah shit." Thunder rolled over us. I'd have to go through the rain to get back to my room. "Ah...shit." And my coat was still in Josie's office. "SHIT. I gotta go, Solas. Thanks again for your help!"

I made my way up to the library. There was no way I was going to walk through the hall in the condition I was in. Covered in blood. I'd never hear the end of it. I knew there was a door that led outside, though. I had used it to get to the library via Cullen's office, when I didn't feel like using every goddamn staircase in the place to get there from my room. I made a beeline for that door, pointedly ignoring the questioning stares I was getting from the people I passed.

I threw the door open and instantly recoiled from the rain the blew into my face. It was _pouring_. The people standing near the door cried out in protest. There was no turning back now. I put my head down and stepped out into the downpour, but left the door open behind me because fuck those whiney assholes.

The stone walkway was slick with rain, so I made my way across it both as carefully and quickly as possible. It still ended with me barging into Cullen's office, soaked to the bone and shivering. I closed the door behind me this time and took a moment to look around the room. There were four soldiers in the room, two standing by each door, along with Cullen, who was sitting at his desk. They all turned to stare at me. I crossed my arms self-consciously. "Uh...hi."

"Maker's breath..." Cullen swiftly got up and removed his surcoat so he could throw it around my shoulders when he reached me. He then steered me over to his chair and plonked me down. "What were you doing outside in this weather? You're not even wearing a coat!"

"It's in Josephine's office..." I mumbled and hid my face in the fur as I wrapped his surcoat around myself tighter. It was still warm from him wearing it, which helped me warm up quickly. "Can I keep this? It's amazing."

I assumed he shook his head as he sighed. "Why didn't you grab it before going outside?" I started to respond, my face still firmly planted in the fur collar. "I can't hear you."

I lifted my head and rested it on the back of the chair. "Someone opened the door as Josephine was herding me out of the room and it almost broke my nose, so someone took me to Solas so he could fix my face but then I was covered in blood and I didn't want to walk through the hall, which was all full of people since it had started to rain by then, but I wanted to change my clothes so I figured I'd just go this route back to my room." I took a deep breath, sighed and closed my eyes. "I just want this day to be over."

We all sat in silence and listened as the rain slowed to a light drizzle. The two groups of soldiers left to continue their patrols. I looked up over my shoulder at Cullen, who was reading a report. "So...you probably want this back, huh?" I snuggled my cheek into the fur collar.

"Go put on some dry clothes first. We don't need you catching a cold from wandering around soaked to the bone." He chided as he fixed me with a displeased stare. I got to my feet with a huff and turned to face him.

"Yeah, well...you make a good point." It was true. "I'll go change and bring it back." He pulled the collar up closer to my neck and made sure I had a good hold of it before he sent me on my way. I probably looked like a kid wearing a grown-up's jacket, but it was fluffy and warm and I didn't care. I quickly changed into a fresh, dry set of beige pajamas and threw on my new leather jacket. I had _begged_ Lavellan to bring back enough deepstalker hide for me to have Harritt craft me a new jacket, and she just happened to have run into a horde of them on their trip out to the Storm Coast.

I made a quick trip to the tavern to grab Cullen and I some stew and booze, then put the surcoat back on before heading back to his office.

"That took longer than expected."

"I made a quick trip." He caught the scent of the stew and looked up. I put his food and drink on his desk and smiled. "Break time." I sat on the floor beside his chair with my back resting against the drawers and poked at a pile of books with the toe of my boot. "Whazzat?"

He glanced over and made a sour expression. "A pile of books Leliana had her people drop off. I have no idea why, seeing as how we have a _library_ for that sort of thing." He waved at a couple of other piles of books on his other side. "And _those_ are from Josephine's people. Perhaps I should get some of my people to move them into _their_ offices..." He narrowed his eyes for a moment before taking a drink and sputtering. "What _is_ this?"

"Honestly, I have no idea." I eyed my own drink before giving it a sniff. "I just told Cabot that I wanted stew and booze, so it was left to his discretion. Doesn't smell like dwarven ale, though, so that's a win." I took a sip and winced. "Ugh. Tastes like he just poured in whatever was almost empty." I took a gulp and gagged a little. It was awful. It tasted like the smell of fresh asphalt. "This is really bad." I took another drink.

"Are you actually going to finish that?" He asked incredulously. I glanced up at him, my eyebrows raised.

"Psh, _yeah_. I ordered it, I drink it." I choked down another swig before having some stew to kill the aftertaste. "This is a lot of booze, though. A tankard of hard liquor...I'm making a bad life choice here." My palette was cleansed, so I drank as much as I could handle. "By the grace of the Maker's dank bunghole, this is _horrible_." I was more than halfway finished, and the booze was starting to affect me. I ate more stew.

"Maker...I don't think I can even finish this." He set the tankard down on his desk and grimaced.

"Dun worry 'bout it. I'll pawn it off on Dorian. Man drinks like a _fish_." I pounded the rest of my drink back and finished off my stew. I set the tankard down and batted at it with my hand, knocking it over.

"Did you finish that _already_?"

"It was sooo bad! I didn't want to prolong my suffering!" I held my hands up and shrugged. "It was...the _logical_ thing to do."

He shook his head. "I'm fairly certain it wasn't, in fact."

"Oh, hush your face." I started to get the spins. "Wait...no, you're probably right. Damnit! That's twice today." I groaned and let my head hang. "I should go lay down for a while."

Cullen got up, and for the second time that day someone had to help me up off the floor. "Let's get you back to your room." He watched me take a couple of steps towards the door. I could tell I was a bit unsteady, but I could be trusted to not fall over either side of the ramparts, at least. He still offered his arm out to me, though, and I still took it. We walked along slowly, chatting about nothing in particular until we made it safely back to my room. I stepped inside and turned to face him, taking a moment to steady myself.

"Thanks, Cullen. I 'preciate you." I shrugged off his surcoat and handed it back to him, swaying slightly. "You should take this back before I decide to keep it. Thanks for taking care of me when I do stupid things. 'Kay, bye now." I gave him a kiss on the cheek before closing the door in his face and making a beeline to my bed so I could flop down face-first and pass out.

* * *

I'm not entirely sure 'surcoat' is the proper term, but it was either that or mantle, and my heart said surcoat so I went with it. I'm balls deep now, so the term will most likely stick around. Let me know if it's disgustingly incorrect.

The next chapter will likely be a direct continuation of this one. Because I know you're all there like OMG WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? and I'm here like OMG LET'S FIND OUT!

On an utterly unrelated note, I just got back from a con where I dressed up as fem!Cullen, and it was an amazing time. PEOPLE RECOGNIZED THE CHARACTER AND IT MADE ME HAPPY. I just had to tell someone because it was exciting. Sorry (not sorry).

Leave a review, plz k thnx lolroflcopterpewp


	14. Vodka

CH 14: Vodka.

I woke up a few hours later with a head full of cotton and a mouth that tasted like regret. I pushed myself up into a sitting position until I was properly hunched over before I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes. I took a moment to enjoy the vivid colour patterns caused by the pressure I was putting on my poor sight spheres before removing my hands and seeing that Cole was standing with his face only inches away from mine. Naturally, I screamed and flailed around in surprise. He remained unperturbed.

"Andraste's pancake nipples..." I splayed my hand over my chest and took a moment to catch my breath. "Cole! Don't sneak up on people like that! It's not okay!"

He cocked his head to the side and frowned slightly. "I didn't sneak anywhere. I was here. You just didn't see me."

"Truly, a horrifying thought." I briefly wondered exactly how much he skulked about...

"I don't watch you while you poop!" He exclaimed. Apparently it was his turn to be upset.

"And thank the Maker's curly dinglebag for that!" I sighed and fixed him with a glare. "What are you doing here?"

"You were thinking of home while you slept, and it made you sad. Wanting, wishing, wistful...you miss the way the poplar fuzz floated on the breeze in the late spring."

I shrugged and scrubbed my face with my hands. "If you say so. Hey, you wanna do me a favour?" He blinked at me. "Uh...I'll take that as a yes. How about you poof down to the tavern and grab me a bottle of whuhhh-" The term 'whiskey shits' flashed through my mind. "Vodka."

Cole took a step back and crossed his arms. "You don't even like drinking. You think it makes you more who you are, and less who you want to be."

"Well, it's more the aftermath I'm concerned with, but that's also a valid point. Doesn't change my mind, though. My request for vodka still stands."

He gave me a strange look before he disappeared in a blink. I sighed and laid back down on the bed. I couldn't remember my dream exactly, but there were flashes...familiar faces and voices and feelings. It made me want to build a blanket fort of sadness from which I could eat ice cream and cry while watching cartoons from my childhood and pining for the 'old days' where the adults took care of everything and all I had to do was make sure I put pants on in the morning. Or I was pining for the fjords. Considering I had never seen the fjords, and only had the vaguest of ideas as to what fjords actually were, I was most likely pining for the former rather than the latter.

I don't know how long I laid there, lost in memories of summer vacations, family camping trips, Christmas mornings, and that one time I threw up candy on the linoleum floor and it was still all rainbow coloured (I couldn't eat jelly slices for _years_ after that). My miserable reminiscing was brought to an end as Cole slowly came into my field of vision, cautiously leaning over me ever so carefully from where he was sitting on the bed behind me. "I see you, Cole. No screaming this time."

He wordlessly held a bottle over my face. I reached up and took it from him. "You are a gentleman and a scholar, my good spirit." After making sure the cork was well and truly lodged within the bottle's neck, I tossed it onto my pillow. You don't pity drink until after dark.

"You're sad."

It wasn't a question. "Yep."

"I can help with that."

I huffed gently. "I don't think I need help with it."

"You never do. Walls around walls around walls...you think you're keeping the pain out, but you're just trapping it inside." Cole paused and stared at me. I could almost feel him digging around in my brain.

"Cole, stop. Yeah, I miss my family and friends. Yeah, that makes me sad. But what are you going to do about it? They're in a different universe, or plane of existence, or _whatever_ , so it's not like you can spout some profound insight concerning their emotional well-being or hidden feelings. And you can't bring them here or send me back there, so there's nothing you can do. There is nothing anyone can do. I just have to work through this on my own." I motioned toward the bottle on my pillow. "Hence the liquid assistance."

"It won't help."

"Can it hurt?" He didn't respond right away. "Yeah. Didn't think so."

"If I can't help, maybe someone else can." He tapped his chin thoughtfully before disappearing. I had the unsettling feeling that he had made me forget about a decent chunk of conversation, but there was no way of confirming that, so instead of dwellling on it I drank all of the water from the small pitcher I kept in my room and skulked off to the tavern to refill it in preparation for the vodka pity party for one I was going to have as soon as the sun went down.

"Hey Princess!" I turned around and saw Varric approaching where I was standing at the bar, waiting for someone to have a moment to get me more water. He waved cheerily and flashed his usual shit-eating grin. "I've got something for you!"

I cautiously took the small pouch he held out to me and shook it. "Sounds like coin."

"It's actually a small herd of pygmy nugs." He responded dryly.

"Toss the Maker's salad, Varric. Why are you giving me coin?"

"Well shit. If I had known you'd forget about our deal so soon, I'd have kept it for myself."

I let out a quiet gasp of comprehension. " _Oh_...from the shitty friendfic?" He nodded, completely ignoring my assessment of his and Dorian's literary masterpiece. I bounced the small pouch in my hand. "How much?"

"Five royals. It's a decent amount, considering that it hasn't even gone to press yet. This is from _presales_."

"Well, fuck me running...I think I'm a sell out, Varric. Feel free to use my likeness in whatever story you want, so long as a portion of the profits get kicked my way."

He chuckled and grinned. "You might come to regret that, Princess."

"Doubtful. Money buys happiness, right?"

He cocked his head slightly to the side, his eyes positively glittering with mirth. Probably thinking of all the horrible literary atrocities he was going to commit now that he had free reign. "Isn't that the opposite of how that saying goes?"

"Psh. Only poor people say it that way."

"Whatever you say." He shook his head. "We're having a game of Wicked Grace tonight. Now that you have some coin to lose, want to join us?"

"Another time, maybe. I've already got plans tonight."

The glitter was back in his eyes. "Plans, eh? Do they involve a _certain someone_?"

"Of course! If by 'certain someone' you mean 'sadness and vodka.'" I shrugged. "I'm sure that's what you meant. Two of my closest friends."

"You need to get out more. I'll talk to you later."

"I won't argue with that. See you." I turned back to the bar just in time to see Cabot cross his arms.

"Heard you got some coin now."

I rolled my eyes and tossed one of the heavy gold coins at him. "This'll do?"

"Back in the black!" He crowed, happily stashing the coin in his pocket. "Now that you're in my good books, what can I do for you?"

I pushed my empty pitcher toward him. "Water."

"That'll be a royal."

"Fuck yourself."

He grinned as he took the pitcher to the back. I rested my hip against the counter and stared resolutely at the door he had just disappeared through. It was getting late, and the tavern was beginning to fill up as people finished their daily tasks. I was never in the mood for idle chatter with strangers I didn't care to know. I felt even less inclined at that moment. Avoiding eye contact at all costs usually worked. Thankfully, Cabot didn't dally and quickly returned with my pitcher. He set it on the counter in front of me and grunted.

"Try not to look so pleasant. You'll attract too many customers."

I blew a raspberry at him and snatched my pitcher off the counter. "Heaven forbid." I quickly made my way up the stairs, focusing my attention between my intended path and the pitcher in my hands so I looked just busy enough to be unapproachable by someone who didn't already know me.

I managed to make it back to my room without incident. I changed into my sleeping clothes, quickly went through my bedtime preparations, and settled down on my bed with a book until the sun dipped below the western horizon. The western horizon was mountains, as was the eastern and southern horizons, and arguably the north horizon as well, so it didn't take long for the sun to disappear. A short while after that, the sky was dark enough for the stars to be visible. That was my cue.

I paused and, after a moment of consideration, I put on the sweater I had been wearing when I was first brought to Thedas. A dark blue zippered hoodie. Nothing special. It seemed appropriate given the circumstances, however, and it was an extra layer of warmth. Nights at Skyhold could get nippy. I slid on a lovely pair of blue velvet slippers Leliana had gifted me with after she had overheard me whining about only owning knee-high boots and what a pain it was to have to put them on every time I wanted to leave my room, grabbed the bottle of vodka, and slipped out into the dusk.

I had thought about it, and figured that the place where I was least likely to be interrupted was on the other side of Cullen's office. There was a decent sized area, but access was limited, so patrols were as well. The trick was getting to it. I didn't want to stroll through Cullen's office, all 'oh don't mind me, I'm just going to go get shitfaced by myself and probably pass out on the battlements.' That would be weird, and probably lead to a very well thought out lecture which would change my mind.

"You _should_ change your mind."

"Bah! Go away, Cole!" I shooed at him with my free hand. "Let me make my bad decision." I was distracted momentarily by the sound of a door and watched as Cullen walked across toward the library. That meant the way was clear! Frabjous day!

I pranced over to his office and opened the door to see the surprised faces of Leliana and Josephine. I didn't stop. "Don't mind me, just...passing through." I didn't wait for a response as I bolted through the door on the opposite side of the room. That probably looked a little odd, in retrospect...oh well. They'd just follow me if they were curious...as if Leliana didn't already have someone following EVERYONE around. I'd be surprised if she didn't employ people to follow the people she had employed to follow other people. It was just one big congo line of people following people following people.

I abandoned that train of thought, as it was making my head hurt, and continued through another small room that still seemed mostly abandoned. There were still small areas of the keep like that...mostly unused, floor still littered with old detritus. I tried to not touch anything as I exited the opposite door and made my way to the quiet corner where I could drink alone in shame. I sat down on the stone, my back to the wall, and rested my head against the stone wall so I could watch the stars come out.

The sky quickly darkened, and the moon rose and cast everything in its cold, silver light. The moon itself seemed larger...whether that was due to size or proximity, I didn't know. I briefly wondered if it affected their weather patterns and tides more than the moon did back home, and quickly uncorked the bottle of vodka and took a swig. I don't know how long I sat there. Long enough for two soldiers to have wandered past while on guard duty. Whatever that meant, so far as time was concerned. Didn't matter anyway. I was a little busy sussing out all the crud that had built up in the corners of my psyche concerning my worth as a human being, and agonizing over every little thing I felt I had ever fucked up. Like that time I had dropped the bone china my mom had inherited from her great grandmother. I cringed as the resounding smash echoed through my mind. That was a sound I'd never forget. I took another shot of vodka.

And that's how it went for a while. Bad memory, shot of vodka. Disparaging thought about self, shot of vodka. Remembering a particularly embarrassing social interaction, shot of vodka. It didn't take long for me to get through half the bottle, and a little voice in the back of my head told me I should probably slow down before I added a new memory where I puked all over myself and had to walk back to my room covered in vomit. I set the bottle down beside me and groaned as I heard footsteps approaching from my left.

"Cole said you'd be here."

I lolled my head over and looked up at Cullen with half-lidded eyes. "That guy...needs to _not_." I grabbed the bottle of vodka and held it up toward him, vaguely noticing that he looked different without all the armour on. "But...if you're gonna be here, you gotta _draaaaaaank_." He pressed his lips into a thin line of disapproval. I shrugged. "Not gonna work right now. I'm in the throes of an existesh...exitesh... _existential_ crisis." I shook the bottle at him, and he took it from me while rolling his eyes. "Hey! Don't roll your eyes at my emotional anguish!"

"Right." He sat down beside me, also looking up at the sky. "What's this all about? Cole was his usual vague self."

"Nuh-uh. Not until you drink." He shot me a consternated look. "You don't have to get drunk, just have a single drink. Talking with drunk people is always easier when you've had a few drinks yourself."

He reluctantly took a drink from the bottle before setting it down on the the side opposite of me. "Why can't you drink ale like normal people?"

"Because I'm not normal? Duh." I sighed and scrutinized the stars. "I don't know any of your constellations. Bonus points for your moon, though. That shit is _beautiful_." I glanced over to see him staring at me, his eyes slightly narrowed. I looked back up to the sky. "Fine. I had a shitty day, so I wanted to sit here alone and think about how much better it was back home. But it _wasn't_ better. I mean, more entertaining, for sure. And my friends and family were there, which was really nice. But, my life itself..." I shrugged listlessly. "It's basically just as meaningless here as it was there. I don't even know what I want to get out of life! What am I doing?" I lolled my head over to look at Cullen again. "I mean...how old were you when you decided you wanted to be a templar?"

A slight smile crossed his face as he recalled. "I was eight."

"Shit! When I was eight, I was colouring pictures of Jesus and wanted to be a princess!"

"I didn't join the order until I was thirteen."

The fact didn't make me feel any better. "Thirteen...I don't even remember what I was doing when I was thirteen. Not determining my life's course, I can guarantee you that." I searched my memory for something. "Nope. I got nothing. What is thirteen, even? Did I have that year? Probably." I scratched at the back of my neck and sighed. "I don't remember much of my childhood, actually. It was pleasant enough, but my brain seems to have re-purposed most of those memory channels into remembering useful facts. For example, did you know that the fused collar bone of a bird is called a furcula?" He didn't respond. "You hold that word close, now. Could save your life." I held my arm out across his chest and flexed my hand. "Booze me. Put booze...in my hand."

He gently pushed my arm back to my side. "I think you've had enough to drink for now."

"Oh, definitely." I held my arm up again. "Booze me."

He pushed my arm down again. "No."

"Gimme!" I leaned across him to grab for the bottle. He simply pushed it further away, out of my reach. I made grabbing motions for a few seconds before giving up and returning to a mostly upright sitting position. "So far away...not fair." I blew a few stray bits of hair out of my eyes and then sighed. "I'm a bit jealous of the dedication you guys have to the Inquisition. You, Leliana, Cassandra, Josephine...You're all just, like, _in there_. Getting shit done. I wish I had something like that...maybe I could join the templarsPSH-" I could barely get the words out before I started laughing hysterically. "HAH! Yeah right! Look at my noodle arms!" I flopped my arms about. "And that's the _least_ of my problems as far as that's concerned. Heh heh. Templar." I shook my head, still chuckling. "Booze me."

"It's not happening." He gave me a chiding look. "Do you honestly believe alcohol will help?"

"Help? Of course not. But...there are closets, you see." I tapped at my temple. "Little cupboards where I shove the dark thoughts so I don't have to deal with them on a day to day basis. You tuck 'em in there, dark and secure and hidden, while telling yourself 'that's future me's problem.' But the problem with that is that, eventually, you _are_ that future you. And now you have to open all of those little dark places and deal with the mess you created for yourself. You know what I'm saying?"

"I think I do."

"Aw, turn that frown upside down!" I gave his shoulder a light fist bump. "We're aaaaaaall _fucked_. There isn't anyone out there who doesn't have skeletons all up in their closets. Dealing with it is the important shit. You can't just let it sit there. It festers, and then you have an even bigger mess to clean up. Booze me." He frowned. "Neh, see, there's a reason, and it's probably not the one you're assuming. Lots of people drink to forget. That's dumb. But, see, I'm shit at dealing with emotions. Absolute rubbish at it. But booze makes it harder for me to keep that shit under lock, so it's easier to just dig it all out and cry a bit before coming to the tried-and-true conclusion that none of this matters anyway because time is just marching us steadily toward our graves." I paused and glanced over at him. "I'm an existential nihilist, by the way." He opened his mouth to say something, so I interrupted. "Don't ask me to explain it right now. I'm drunk."

"Fair enough."

I slid sideways until my head rested against his shoulder. "Did I mention that I like the moon? I really do. Moonlight makes everything more..." I paused to come up with the right word. "Romantic?" Close enough.

"Romantic?" He echoed, sounding amused.

"Yeah!" I was rolling with it. "Especially when there's snow and it's all glittery, like diamonds. Or glitter. Maybe both. Or something completely different, but just as shiny." I shrugged. "Whatever. It's all pretty and shit. What do you want from me?"

He chuckled to himself and looked down at me. "I didn't paint you as a romantic."

"Well, you got me properly pegged now." I wiped the grin from my face and tried my best for somber. "Don't...don't let Varric know. Or Dorian. Or Bull. Or anyone, ever. It's our secret." I put my index finger against my lips in the classic 'sssh' pose and nodded at him once before letting my hand fall back into my lap. I just sat there and stared up at him with a dopey smile on my face, lost somewhere in the alcoholic haze that clouded my mind. I briefly snapped out of it when I realized that his lips were on mine. I reciprocated with an equal amount of pressure as I reached my hand up and gently ran my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. He splayed his hand on my back and pulled me closer, but then suddenly broke the kiss and pulled back. A slight frown tugged at his lips as he looked away.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...you've been drinking, and I shouldn't-"

" _Staaaaaahp._ " I shushed him and gave him a smile. "I'm pleasantly drunk, first off, not shitfaced. I still understand what's going on, and I thoroughly enjoyed myself, thank you very much." I gave him a soft peck on the cheek. "Walk me back to my room?"

"Of course." He got to his feet and held out a hand, which I graciously (if not gracefully) took. He easily pulled me to my feet and grasped my shoulder to help steady me on my feet. The world spun around me for a few moments before settling down.

"Onwards!" I pointed valiantly toward the door, swaying on my feet slightly. "My bed eagerly awaits my return! Or, wait...maybe I eagerly await my return to bed. One of the two."

Cullen chuckled. "You are an odd one, you know that?"

"Yes. Yes, I do."

It was a short walk, mostly filled with me having the drunk giggles. We stopped in front of my door and faced each other. I fluttered my eyelashes and smiled coyly. "Thank you for making sure I got back safe. You're a gentleman and a scholar."

"Yes, well, we couldn't have you falling off the battlements, could we?" He stepped a bit closer and gently angled my face upward using a crooked finger under my chin. My smile widened.

"We sure couldn't. What a waste that would be." I closed the distance between us we kissed again. I was mindful to not get into sloppy drunk kissing mode, but it was more heated than the before. This time I pulled away first, cupping his cheek gently while grinning. "Goodnight, Cullen." I opened my door and slipped inside, poking my head out the door just as he was turning to go. "And don't you just head back and read more reports! Get to bed!"

He just shook his head, probably wondering what the hell he got himself into this time. I closed the door and made a running dive onto my bed before burrowing under the covers and sighing in content. My eyelids grew heavy quickly, and the butterflies in my stomach and I quickly fell into a heavy alcohol-assisted slumber.

* * *

So...I'm really no good at writing the whole kissy-kissy romance stuff. Apologies. Hope it wasn't too painful to read through.

Thank you all for reading and liking and following, and especially reviewing! Speaking of which, there was a review that I actually wanted to respond to but couldn't (I'm looking at YOU, Puddleduck), so I'm going to do that here because I feel like it.

I'm not British, but I'm a big fan of British humour, so that's probably influenced me over the years. There's something magical about that dry, sarcastic sense of humour that resonates with me...take that how you will.

As for whether or not Dawn is actually like me...to an extent? I suppose it's a mashup of how I am and how I wish I could be, if that makes sense. I'm not quite as outspoken, and probably have a much flatter affect. But you'd totally get approval points from her for being a sarcastic asshole, and giving her an occasional piece of candy, or bringing her coffee. Coffee is life. She'd disapprove of decisions based more on feelings rather than a logical cost/benefit analysis, obvious flattery, and religious fanaticism. SUCH A FUN PERSON. PARTY DON'T START WITHOUT HER.

I will bring more characters into this, like Leliana, Sera, Blackwall, Solas and the Inquisitor. Eventually. It's just trying to work them into the story without making it seem super forced that I need to figure out. But stay tuned!

Thanks for reading!


	15. Hobbies

CH 15: Hobbies

I sat in my usual spot in the tavern, hunched over and scowing into my coffee. I had a double whammy of a hangover and was in no mood to chat, so I was quite displeased when Varric sat down opposite me with that goddamned grin on his smug mug.

"You're looking pretty rough today, Princess. Mattress not soft enough anymore?"

"I will spit on you like an angry llama, Varric." I glared at him, not really caring if they had llamas here or not. The dwarf was obviously enjoying my misery, which was really fair enough after I had him dragged along behind the Inquisitor in the most inhospititable places Thedas had to offer. "So, which did you like better - the Storm Coast, or the Western Approach?"

He narrowed his eyes slightly, but maintained the smile. "You know, I'm kind of curious to know which one you'd like better. I'm sure there's some papers you could shuffle around out in the field."

"It would seem that _someone_ at this table has a vagina full of sand. Spoiler alert: it's not me." I groaned inwardly as Bull approached the table from his usual slouching spot across the room. "That guy must have some sort of sixth sense that lets him know when someone in the room refers to genitals in their conversation."

He swaggered over to the table and nodded to each of us in greeting. "Varric. Princess."

"Oh, for..." I rolled my eyes and set my mug down noisily. "Should I just legally change my name to Princess so you have to come up with a different nickname for me?"

Varric splayed a hand across his chest in faux indignation. "There are people who _wish_ I would give them a nickname, and you're complaining about yours?"

I sneered at him. "Yeah, and there are people who would love to be tongue punched in the asshole, but I'm not one of them, either." There was a moment of uncomfortable silence that I used to delicately sip some coffee. "What was your point again?"

Varric wiped a hand over his face. "You _always_ make things weird, you know that?"

"I don't know...I thought it was pretty hot." Bull gave me a once over with his good eye.

"Yeah, you would." I grumbled testily. "I'm sorry...are you winking or blinking?"

"We are _not_ having that conversation again." He replied, a dark look on his face.

"But I can't tell!"

He let out an angry grunt and clenched his eye shut dramatically. " _That_ is a wink!"

"Stop it, Bull. We're not having this conversation." I replied cooly, turning back to Varric. Bull chuckled humourlessly under his breath and sat down beside Varric. "Now it's a crowd. Get Sera down here and we can make it a party." I winced as Bull called out to the elf. "Maker's taint...could you keep it down? I'm trying to nurse a hangover here!"

"Oh! You know what's good for hangovers?" Bull leaned over the table, resting on his forearm, and graced me with a shit-eating grin to rival Varric's.

"Uh...throwing a virgin into a volcano? Burning down an orphanage? Stabbing someone fourty times in the chest?"

"Yeah, no. None of those things." He motioned for me to lean in closer. I did not. He carried on anyway, holding one of his hands up to his mouth to whisper at me. " _More booze_."

"No, I'm pretty sure that's one of those 'terrible idea' things I keep hearing about." I responded, complete with air quotations. "I'll pass. I mean, don't get me wrong. I'm all for terrible ideas. Just...not that one in particular."

"Ah, come on!" Bull motioned toward Cabot for a round of drinks. "Have you ever tried?"

"No. I've also never peeled my own skin off with a knife, or stabbed pins into my eyeballs. Do I need to try those things to know that they're unpleasant?" He frowned. "Besides, it's not even noon yet. I only drink before noon when I'm on vacation."

Sera finally made it down to the table and plopped down beside me. "Right. What's all this, then?"

I massaged my temples. Keeping my temper in check was making my head hurt even worse. "These two are being annoying assholes."

"What, Bull and Varric? _Nah_. Right angels, them two." She winked at them and giggled. "Now _you_ , little prissy-pants Princess, could stand to loosen up a little." She nudged me with her elbow and grinned.

I let out a low, angry growl. "I'm fine the way I am."

"Like piss you are! Walking around all scowly and serious _all the time_." A busty barmaid showed up and set a tankard down in front of each of us, giving Bull a coy smile before sauntering off. " _Woof_." She and Bull toasted each other before taking long draughts from their tankards. Varric was too busy scribbling in the notebook he always carried with him to drink. Sera noticed and craned her head to look. "Whatcha writin' now?"

Varric finished whatever he was writing and snapped the book shut, tucking it back into whatever bottomless bag of holding he had sewn inside his shirt. "Inspiration is a fickle mistress, Buttercup. When she gives you something, you take it before it disappears." Sera nodded, but her expression was rather vacant.

"Lovely non-answer, Varric." He shot me a warning look. "But I believe that she asked you _what_ you were writing, not _why_. As an author, I'm sure you understand the difference."

"I do." He responded, careful to keep his tone light. "But I can't have spoilers floating around, now can I?"

"So you're making notes for your books." He nodded. "And you didn't just say that because...?"

"Why are you picking on Varric?"

I stared at Bull with wide-eyed rage. "Because you _motherfuckers_ are _bothering_ me. I came here to nurse a cup of coffee in goddamn silence, not to have a conversation."

"That's kind of what you do in a tavern." Varric replied, slightly irked.

"Your _mother_ was a tavern."

"I don't even know what that means." He pulled out his notebook again and scribbled something else down.

"You're _really_ wound up today!" Sera exclaimed. I recoiled and clapped my hands over my ears. "You better watch out, prissy-britches, or someone might decide to knock you down a peg."

I groaned and rested my forehead on the table. "That would require a peg lower than the one I'm already at."

"You know what you need?" Bull chimed in.

"To shed this mortal coil?"

"A hobby." Murmers of agreement followed the proclamation.

"Such as?" I didn't raise my head.

"Writing!"

"Arrows!"

I lifted my head to look at Bull expectantly. "And what would you suggest?"

"Bull rides."

"Oh, fuck _off_." The other two burst into laughter. "And stop waggling your eyebrows at me! The stuff of nightmares..." I was startled by a tap on my shoulder and turned to see one of Leliana's people. "Am I in trouble?"

"Sister Nightingale would like to speak with you."

"I'll take my leave, then." I stood up and gave the table an exaggerated flourish that ended with me flipping them the bird before following the agent out of the building. I actually staggered as the sunlight hit my eyes, but I managed to keep up.

There were no words exchanged as we made our way to the rookery where Leliana spent most of her time. Dorian gave me a curious look as we passed, which I replied to with a confused shrug. We reached Leliana, and the agent was dismissed. Leliana looked me over with her cool blue eyes, her face betraying no emotion. "So."

"So." I matched her calculated coolness with my natural apathy.

"Sit." She motioned toward an empty chair by her work station. I gracefully planted my ass and waited for her to continue. She watched me for a few long moments, standing by the nearby window. Her hood cast her face in shadow. On purpose, I assumed. "What are you intentions?"

"Uh...to find the Holy Grail?"

"This is no joking matter." She approached the table and leaned over, resting on her hands so she could stare me in the eyes.

"Look, I'm not feeling the greatest right now, so if you want to just cut this bullshit and get straight to the point, it'd be much appreciated."

She clucked her tongue at me and stood straight again. "No tact at all."

I slowly got to my feet and lightly smoothed down the front of my shirt. "I'd be insulted if I didn't agree with you on that. Look, I'm just going to go with the assumption that this is about Cullen. Commander of the army, power, blah blah blah. Let's just cut straight to the heart of the matter here - if you think I'm trying to get close to him to use him, just kill me. I don't see why it has to be any more complicated than that. I mean, you already have people watching and listening everything, everywhere, all the time." I paused and grimaced. "Kind of creepy, when you think about it." I shook my head like my brain was an Etch-n-Sketch and I could erase the thought. "Anything else you need?"

"Not from you directly."

"Well...that's ominous, but whatever. Talk to you later. Indirectly, I guess." I gave her an awkward shrug before heading down the stairs. That was _weird_. I made a point to stop and visit Dorian on my way back to...somewhere else. He was sitting in the armchair, nose buried in a book. When he noticed I was standing there, he snapped the tome shut and got to his feet, tossing the book onto the seat of the chair before making his way over to me and grasping me by the shoulders.

"Well, would wonders never cease...you're still alive!"

"For the time being, anyway. I don't forsee an assassination, but one can never rule it out. But, I figured, just in case, I should stop by and let you know..." I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close until my mouth was right by his ear. " _You can't have any of my stuff._ "

He scoffed and pulled back, a sarcastic smile on his face. "As if that's even an issue, my dear."

"Oh, you just _wait_ until they're going through my shit after I'm dead. You'll find something sparkly and be all 'oh, I'll take that!' but NAY NAY! Not for you!" I wagged my finger at him and scowled.

"I sound nothing like that."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." I deigned to give him a one shouldered, unimpressed shrug. "Anyway, I have to be somewhere now, and I should probably find out where that somewhere is before I get in trouble again. I'll see you around."

"It's always a pleasure." He gave me a sarcastic bow before heading back to his chair, and I made my way down the next set of stairs. Josephine was probably a good place to start. She'd be able to tell me if I was going to be of any use that particular day. I had just opened the door to the mail hall when I heard a shriek and the sounds of water hitting the floor, and watched a drenched Josephine storm out of the castle, muttering angrily under her breath.

Fuck that. I thought back to Bull's comment about having a hobby...maybe Mother Giselle could round me up some knitting needles and yarn and I could make some scarves or something while hiding in a dark corner somewhere.

* * *

I felt slightly bad for not updating for a while, so here's an extra chapter. Whoop whoop.


	16. Revenge Pt 1

My god...these chapters just keep getting longer and longer.

* * *

CH 16: Revenge Pt. 1

"GOOD MORNING!"

I thrashed about in surprise as someone screamed in my ear and sat up, my hand delicately splayed over my racing heart. I looked over to see Lavellan standing beside my bed, her hands clasped behind her back, and smiling as she bounced on the balls of her feet. She just stood there, smiling and peering at me curiously with her large green eyes.

"Dear god..." I took a few calming breaths and glared at her in exasperation. "What are you doing? Why are you here?"

Her smile faltered. "...they didn't tell you?"

That phrase always made my stomach knot. " _Who_ didn't tell me _what_?"

"Varric and Dorian! Last time we were out in the field we kept finding these things called astrariums, which are sort of like star puzzles?" She pursed her lips for a moment before shrugging. "Anyway, those two said that you love puzzles, and would be happy to look at them! So I figured why not? It can't be fun being holed up in Skyhold all the time, and I remember seeing a few of them in the Hinterlands. So I figured you could come along and take a look, now that things have quieted down there!" She began to bounce happily again.

I groaned and rubbed my eyes. "Varric and Dorian said I like puzzles, eh?" It was true. I did enjoy a good puzzle. But I couldn't recall ever saying it to them...

"Yeah! I mean, I poked around a bit at the ones we found, but there were more pressing matters at hand, and I'm not much for puzzles." She grabbed my blankets and pulled them off of me. I gurgled in consternation. "Oh! Well, I'm glad you wear clothes to bed. I guess that would have been pretty awkward otherwise!" She giggled as I stared at her, my mouth slightly ajar. "Get changed and come on! We need to be on the road before sunrise!"

I sputtered, my mind racing with questions. "Wait! How long will we be gone? Where are we going, exactly? Do I need to bring anything with me? What about changes of clothes? What about-"

"We're going to the Hinterlands, we'll be gone for up to five days, we already have the necessities packed. All we need is you!" She turned on her heel and made her way to the door. "So hurry up and get changed! We have a horse saddled and ready to go!" And she was gone.

Fuck.

I numbly went through the motions of changing into my leathers, questions still whirling through my mind. What if we ran into enemies? Could I even be on horseback for that long? I needed a hat so I didn't sunburn!

"Here."

I screeched and spun around to see Cole offering a white wide-brimmed hat to me. I furrowed my brows. "Where did you get that from?"

"She won't miss it. She's dead!"

I just stared at the hat for a few moments before carefully plucking it from his grasp. "Oooookay then. Why not." I plopped it on my head and shoved a couple extra pairs of small clothes into the pouch on my belt.

"You'll be fine. They won't let anything happen to you." Cole smiled at me serenly. It was disturbing. "I'm...not helping."

"The hat will help. Thank you." I clapped him on the shoulder as I walked past him toward the door. "At least I won't end up a horribly sunburnt corpse. Take care of things while I'm away, ok?"

"You don't take care of things here."

"Ouch. That hurt." I closed the door behind me and scowled. The stars still hung overhead, even as the sunlight began to touch the eastern horizon. I hurried down the stairs and made my way to the main gates, where the party was patiently waiting. Dennett was using the time to fuss over saddle straps while Solas, Varric, Cassandra and Lavellan chatted amicably, already mounted and ready to go. I sighed heavily and plodded over. "Okay, I'm here."

"Welcome to the party, Princess!" Varric grinned. "This is called _pre-dawn_. It's that time right before the sun comes up!"

"Shut. Your face." I ground out, clenching my jaw. "I am well aware of what time it is."

"Not a morning person, I see." He chuckled under his breath and returned to whatever conversation had been taking place prior to my arrival.

"Fuck you..." I grumbled under my breath for a moment before turning my attention to Dennett, who was trying to impart some useful information before our departure.

"Do you even have any riding experience?"

"Minimal. Mostly walking, very little at canter, nothing at a gallop or run."

He shook his head and huffed. "Figures...if you feel like you're just bouncing in the saddle, stand in the stirrups until you get the feel for the rhythm. Think you can manage that?"

"Probably." I climbed into the saddle and looked down at the stable master. "Trial by fire, eh?"

"Not what I would have preferred, but it's not my call. Just stay in the saddle and you'll be fine." He gave one final tug to a saddle strap before walking back to the stables. I adjusted myself in the saddle and nodded to Lavellan, who was watching me expectantly. She nodded back, and with a whistle we were off.

I spent most of the ride out in a strange state of half-consciousness, only vaguely aware of what was going on around me. Thankfully, the road to the Hinterlands was, at that point, well patrolled by Inquisition forces, and we didn't run into any trouble. The first day flew by uneventfully. The scenery was nice enough, with the sunshine and mountains and flora and fauna, and Varric told stories the entire way to keep the party entertained, but I couldn't seem to shake that groggy feeling you get when someone wakes you up at the wrong time. Before I even realized what was happening, we had made it to the camp Lavellan had set up near the farmland in the Hinterlands, and everyone was settling down for the evening. After a quick mean, Varric grabbed me by the elbow and led me to a nearby tent.

"You're bunking with me tonight, Princess." I climbed into the tent and wordlessly flopped face down on one of the two bedrolls. If he said anything after that I was too busy sleeping to hear it. I awoke the next morning to him incessantly prodding my shoulder. "Wakey wakey!"

I groaned and sat up, grinding the heels of my palms into my eye sockets. "Ugh...what?"

"It's time to get up, Princess."

I glared at him as he stood over me, already changed and ready to go, that self- satisfied grin still on his face. I rolled over and covered my face the heavy cloth of the bedroll. "Five more minutes..."

"You'll miss breakfast..."

My stomach growled in protest, so I forced myself into a sitting position and winced at the pain in my backside from sitting in a saddle all day. "Fine! Just give me a minute or two to get myself ready..."

"Of course, your highness!" He bowed deeply and grinned. "But I'm not saving you any food, so I wouldn't suggest dallying too much." He ducked out of the tent, and I listened as the conversation int he camp outside picked up. With a heavy sigh, I forced myself out of bed, ignoring the aches and pains caused by sleeping on the uneven ground, and quickly changed into fresh underpinnings before emerging from the tent. I winced against the morning sun as I put on my hat and made my way over to the campfire, where Solas and Lavellan were chatting. They turned to greet me as I approached.

"Good morning! I hope the accommodations have treated you well!" Lavellan chirped as Solas offered me a bowl of whatever breakfast was. I accepted it as gracefully as possible and retreated to an uninhabited seating area, across from where Cassandra was sharpening her blade. I mindlessly shoveled the gruel into my face and stared at the empty bowl for a few moments before noticing Cassandra motioning toward a nearby table. I caught the hint and quickly deposited the bowl before returning to my seat, waiting for Lavellan's signal to move out.

It didn't take long. She wrapped up her conversation with Solas and motioned for everyone to gather together over a nearby table with a map spread over it.

"I had the scouts here mark the locations of the astrariums in this area. We'll start here-" She pointed to a mark made just northwest of the camp we were at. "Then we'll move to here." She dragged her finger along to a point marked southeast of the camp. "After that, we'll move across to here." She dragged her finger across the map again and stopped it a fair distance away, just southeast of another camp near where she had met up with Mother Giselle. "This shouldn't take more than a day. We're not anticipating any resistance. Scout reports say that the entire area has been quiet since the templars were recruited and the mages were removed by Alexius." The last part of her sentence came out bitter, and a sour expression flitted across her fair features. "Danger is minimal, patrols are active, we'll be fine." She gave me an encouraging smile before straightening up and rubbing her hands together excitedly. "Let's get this done!"

It only took a few moments for the bedrolls to be rolled up and attached to the saddlebags once again, and we were on our way. It only took a few minutes for us to reach our first destination. We dismounted, and Lavellan motioned for me to join her in front of the strange contraption. It was a globe, mounted in something that reminded me of the supposed perpetual motion contraptions from home. "This is an astrarium." I stated flatly. I wasn't impressed.

"Yes! They're a bit trickier than they look. See, they have a constellation engraved on the front here..." She pointed to a small plate at the base of the structure. "And you have to look through the eyepiece here and use these controls to recreate the constellation."

"This all seems rather pointless, but whatever." I approached the machine and studied the engraving before looking through the eyepiece. It showed a small section of sky, filled with stars. A few were brighter than the others, and they clearly correlated with the constellation. I pulled back and gazed at the Inquisitor. "Right. So it has to be more complicated than 'here's a constellation, connect the stars' or you wouldn't have bothered to bring me here."

She blinked at me before sighing. "Well, yes. It's more complicated than that. It seems like you have to connect them in a certain way, or it doesn't work."

"Of course." For some reason, a childhood memory was triggered. A friend of mine was boasting about how they could draw a house without going over any of the lines twice. "Hm...let me try something." Thankfully, it was a rather simple pattern, so it only took me a few moments to connect the stars in the right pattern. There was a loud click, and the globe spun around a few times on its own before stopping as a bright beam of light shot off into the distance. I turned back to Lavellan, my eyes wide. "Uh...I think I won?"

"So it would seem." Solas chimed in, a vague smile on his face. "Perhaps we should see what happens when we 'win' the other two astrariums in the area?"

"Let's go!" Lavellan gracefully jumped onto the back of her hart and waited for the rest of us to get mounted before starting off toward the next point on the map. Her previous assessment was turning out to be true - there was nothing of note in the area. No templars, no rebel mages, not even a pack of wolves. We quickly made it to the second astrarium, and I gave the engraved constellations cursory glance before getting to work.

"This one's a bit trickier, Princess." Varric warned, his voice smug. "Don't feel too bad if-"

"Done." I stepped back as the contraption did its light beam thing, just like the one before. "You said there's one more here?" I walked back to my horse and pulled myself into the saddle, eager to get the day over with. Varric let out a disappointed huff as he mounted his horse. Lavellan and Solas both looked vaguely impressed.

"Yes, by the crossroads." Lavellan responded, her voice smooth. "It shouldn't be more than four hour's ride from here."

"Shall we?" I adjusted my hat and motioned for us to be on our way. Lavelland nodded and kicked her hart in the sides. We were off.

The lack of hostile targets gave me time to enjoy the scenery, at least. The Hinterlands were beautiful, just like the mountains in my home province. Sunlight filtered through the trees in the mixed forest, the smell of the pines thick in the chilly mountain air. It made me think of family camping trips during the late spring. A nostalgic ache settled in my chest, nesting there like a cranky badger. I felt less nostalgic as we crossed through an area of burnt houses. Half-destroyed wagons were abandoned along the side of the path. Some had burnt bodies alongside them, limbs twisted at unnatural angles, blackened mouths gaping open. Cassandra must have caught me staring.

"This was one of the most heavily affected areas." Her gaze followed another smaller burnt body as she rode past, and she shook her head. "So much death and destruction...and for what?"

"A Klondike bar?"

She narrowed her eyes at me. " _What_?"

"Eh...nevermind." I wrinkled my nose at a burning pile of bodies as we passed. "Let's just get to the last astrarium so we can head back to Skyhold. Looking at all of these crispy bodies is upsetting, and..." I trailed off as we passed a templar encased in ice, mid swing. "That's kind of awesome, actually."

"You're a strange girl, Princess." Varric shook his head at me.

"Hey! I can appreciate the _artistry_ that went into that. It's not my fault _you_ can't understand it."

"It's a dead soldier in ice!" He exclaimed, waving one of his hands around in emphasis. "What's to understand?"

"It's like one of those performance sculptures that are meant to change over time! Back home, I read about an artist who did something like that. She got a dozen dead rabbits, sewed pictured into their stomachs, and hung them from a tree to rot. Symbolized the cycle of life or death, or some such thing." I pursed my lips and shrugged. "I would have made a stew, but whatever. To each their own."

"Reminds me of Nevarra..." Cassandra grumbled irritably. Her voice echoed in the stone tunnel we were riding through, and she looked around sheepishly. We made a quick pit stop at the crossroads so Lavellan could sell some trinkets she had been hauling around since her last outing. I looked up to the sky and thanked the Maker that we wouldn't have to listen to her constantly whine about the small statuette of Maferath poking her in the side as she rode. She bought me a nice pair of nugskin boots, as apparently the ones I was wearing were 'broken and disgraceful,' and while I appreciated the thought, I lamented the fact that nugskin was nearly white and would look dirty the moment they touched the ground. I put them on anyway and wiggled my toes happily as we continued on northeast to the last astrarium in the area.

It was another uneventful ride, up winding paths flanked by sheer walls of rock and out into a large, open field. The mountains seemed to surround us no matter where we went. I was beginning to feel agoraphobic without the safety blanket of Skyhold's walls. I hunched my shoulders a bit and scanned the area for movement. There could have been people hiding _anywhere_.

Varric slowed his horse down to walk alongside mine, and he peered up at me with a concerned frown. "Hey, are you alright? You look a little tense."

I forced myself to relax my muscles, and rolled my neck. "I don't know, Varric. There could be enemies hiding anywhere here...like behind that big rock," I motioned toward a large hill that seemed to be made of boulders. "Or on _that_ big rock." I pointed to the mountains. "Or behind those trees." I made a grand sweeping gesture with my arm. "Or behind _you_." I leaned back to get a good look at what was on the other side of him before letting out an exaggerated sigh. "You're clear. Thank the Maker's creamy spooge."

"Yeah, well, try to keep it together until we make it back to Skyhold. You're already crazy enough as it is..." He gave his horse a gentle kick in the flank and it trotted back to its original spot beside Cassandra. A few moments later, Lavellan pointed to the distance and yelled, turning in her saddle to face me.

"It's just up ahead! We'll get that solved and then stop for lunch!" With that, she kicked the sides of her horse and took off at a gallop. The other horses followed suit, of course, including mine.

"Ah, shit..." I did my best jockey impersonation and stood slightly in the saddle, just enough to let my legs act as shock absorbers. The horse's gait was smooth enough, thankfully, and by the time we got to the top of a small hill that held the astrarium, my thighs were on FIRE. I quickly dismounted and paced around, trying to loosen up the muscles. "I should do that more often. I'll have the finest thighs in all of Thedas."

"It's good for the glutes, too." Lavellan patted her own ass and winked at Solas, who seemed simultaneously entertained and embarrassed. She gathered the horses and took them over to what looked to be a small makeshift stable to our left. They nickered and whinnied unhappily as she tied them to wobbly posts jutting out of the ground. "What's got you so riled up?" She pet her horse on the nose affectionately before removing a package from the saddlebag. "Dawn, you work on that puzzle. Cass, grab something we can all sit on. Varric, see if you can scrounge up some firewood. This looks like a long-term camp, so there should be something around here." Lavellan set the package on the ground and began to make a circle out of large rocks, presumably for a fire pit of sorts. Solas joined her in that task.

Shrugging, I made my way over to the machine and looked at the engraving. It was a sword. This was the easiest one of them all. I sighed and looked into the eyepiece, quickly solving it. Another beam of light shot out. The horses whinnied and reared. "What's upsetting the-" I stopped short as I heard the distinct sound of an arrow whistling through the air, then a loud crack as it ricocheted off the machine. I was vaguely aware of a sharp pain along my right cheek before I was full-body tackled to the ground by Lavellan, who was already yelling at the others. There was another whistle, and the sound of an arrow breaking against rock. I struggled to catch the breath Lavellan had knocked out of me.

"We're got an archer!" She scrambled to her feet and drew her blade before rushing down the hill. That probably wasn't the safest thing to do.

"I got it!" Varric called back. A few heavy clunks followed his words, then the sound of Bianca shooting off a volley of bolts. The archer let out a scream that quickly turned to a gurgle, and all was quiet again for a moment. Solas was kneeling beside me, holding a clean cloth to my face and mumbling a spell under his breath. The same tingly pain I remebered from when he mended my nose before ran through the right side of my face for a few moments before he pulled his hand away. The cloth was soaked with blood.

"There. The bleeding's stopped." He narrowed his eyes and scrutinized my face carefully. "No serious damage, thankfully." He held his hand up toward my face, but I grabbed him by the wrist and pushed his hand away.

"No. No more healing magic." I pushed myself into a sitting position and winced as the momentary increase in heart rate made the right side of my face throb painfully. I giggled slightly as I thought the word 'throb', but quickly got myself back under control. "I'll be fine. Save your energy for when you really need it. Same with the healing potions."

"As you wish." He got to his feet and offered me a hand, which I grasped shakily as he pulled me to my feet. Another rush of blood made my face hurt more, and I winced. To his credit, Solas said nothing. Instead, he slid his gaze over to the field in front of us. I followed his line of site and saw Cassandra examining the dead archer. It was a templar, probably no more than eighteen years old. Cassandra shook her head as she pocketed a small bag of coin and made her way over to me and Solas.

"You're injured." She looked worried as she briefly flicked her eyes over at Solas, who shrugged.

"Barely." I rolled my eyes and huffed. "I'll be fine."

"Oh _shit_." Varric jogged over to me and looked upon my face in despair. "Sparkler's going to be _pissed_." He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed heavily. "This is my fault. I should have been watching you closer."

"No, it's _my_ fault." Lavellan climbed up the hill and pouted sulkily. "I should have kept a better eye out for enemy soldiers. I thought we had the area cleaned out, and I got complacent."

"No." Cassandra straightened her spine and fixed Lavellan with a properly contrite frown. "I should have-"

"My fucking lord..." I smacked my forehead with my palm and groaned angrily. "It's my fault for having a face to get in the way of the arrow. There. Done. Can we move on with our lives now, please? I'd like some lunch."

They all exchanged glances before wordlessly continuing on with the meal preparations. I shuffled over to a nearby table and sat underneath it, hugging my legs to my chest and resting my chin on my knee. I watched as the other four scurried about, now casting glances at their surroundings to see if any other dangers had decided to crawl out of the woodwork. Thankfully, nothing else seemed to be skulking around, and lunch was quickly cooked up and doled out as we all sat around the fire on logs Cassandra had dragged over from who knows where. It was a small bowl of stew along with a piece of bread.

"The bread was fresh baked this morning!" Lavellan chirped as she handed it to me, a mischievous smile on her face. "Only the best for Skyhold's Princess!" Everyone got a good chuckled out of that, excluding me. I ate in silence as the others made small talk that eventually turned into a plan to check out whatever the astrariums had pointed out with their strange beams of light. "So, this is where it seems to lead us." Lavellan spread her map on her stump and smoothed out as many wrinkles as possible. There were arrows showing the direction each of the machines had indicated, and a large circle where the lines intersected.

"That's where those apostates were hiding!" Cassandra frowned deeply, her eyes flicking over to me momentarily. "Do you think it's too dangerous to go there now?" Her eyes flicked to me once again.

"We're already here. Might as well go check it out. I have little interest in trying to stop more arrows with my face, so don't worry." I gave her a quick smile before getting to my feet. "I would appreciate a bandage of some sort, perhaps? Just to keep dirt and debris out of my flesh."

Luckily, Solas and Cole had been working together on a weird self-adhesion bandage using spider webs. He dabbed some elfroot salve onto the middle of it and gently stuck it to my face as he made strange, squinty faces of concentration. Apparently there was a technique to getting it to stick to where you were trying to place it, and off your fingers. I managed to not laugh, mostly because he was prodding my flesh wound and it stung. After a minute or two of struggling, he stepped back triumphantly and nodded. "That should do."

I flexed my face to make sure it was stuck tight and gave him a nod back. "Yep."

After a quick cleanup, we were off toward the old apostate cave. The trip was made in silence, with everyone constantly scanning the surroundings to make sure their squishy tag-along didn't get another arrow surprise. The only thing we ran into was a couple of fennecs running around the forest.

The sun was beginning to dip toward the western horizon as we came upon the drippy mess that was the entrance to the cave. The ice the mages had created during their battles was beginning to melt, leaving a giant puddle of mud and entrails. The smell was enough to make me gag. I covered my nose and mouth with a sleeve and made a point of not looking at the ground. It made disgusting squelching noises as the horses powered through and carried us to the cave proper. Tents were still set up, bedrolls and other assorted sundries abandoned by their previous owners.

"You wait here, Princess." Varric jumped off his horse, and I raised my eyebrows slightly at how nimble he was for such a stubby motherfucker. He readied Bianca and gave me a wink. "We'll just be a moment."

I watched as the others climbed up a few small ledges and disappeared around the corner. There wasn't much to keep my mind occupied, other than looking into the tents as best I could and imagining what sort of people had bunked there previous to their...departure. There wasn't much to go on, though. Tattered bits of clothing, soggy books, a few random boots here and there. The best I could imagine was a group of moist, subterranean mages who enjoyed reading, long one-booted walks in the cave system, and had no sewing skills at all.

It was very interesting.

Varric was true to his word, however, and they were back only a few minutes later. Lavellan was examining a rather fancy-looking dagger, and Varric had a new amulet clutched in his hand. They quickly stored their new bounties and hopped back up onto their mounts.

"Ready to start the trip home?" Lavellan grinned at me.

"Let me think about that MAKER YES." I rubbed my arms and shuddered. "I'm going to need a week-long bath after all this. And all the brain bleach you have."

"Brain bleach?" She responded, eyeing me quizzically.

"Ugh...nevermind." I shook my head and sighed. "Let's get this gong show on the road."

The sun had sunk beneath the horizon by the time we reached the camp near the Redcliffe farms again. Two of the soldiers stationed there tended to our horses as we had more stew and bread for supper. I sat by the fire miserably and shoveled food into my maw as quickly as I could. My ass hurt, my face hurt, and I had stepped into a giant pile of steaming fresh druffalo shit as soon as I dismounted. Luckily, Cassandra had been close enough to grab my arm and stabilize me as I slipped in the greasy pile of dung, but my new boots would never be the same. I wiped the dirty boot mournfully on the grass as I finished the last of my meal. Now it had grass stains, too. Shit.

"I'm done. Goodnight." I plopped my empty bowl down on a nearby table and skulked to the tent I was sharing with Varric again. Without another word to anyone, I kicked off my boots and climbed into my bedroll, ready for the blissful darkness of unconsciousness to pull me deep into her bosom.

I once again awoke to Varric prodding at my arm once again. "Wakey wakey, Princess! One more day and you'll be safely tucked away in your tower once again."

"Can we skip this part and get straight to that?" I propped myself up on one elbow and accepted the small metal cup of coffee he held to me.

"Nah. A little bit of pain helps to enhance the pleasurable." He gave me a wink and chuckled.

"Well. You're right fucking jolly this morning." I forced myself into a proper sitting position and winced at the dull pain triggered in my ass bones. "And just brimming with self-confidence and innuendo. As per usual."

"And you're still our little ray of sunshine, shining bright on the gloomiest of days." He retorted dryly as he rolled up his bedroll. I noticed a fresh change of clothes for me sitting at the end of my bed. He noticed me looking and grinned. "Well, we can't have you going back to Skyhold reeking of druffalo shit, now can we? They'll never let us take you anywhere again!"

I grabbed the nearest thing and threw it at his head. He ducked, and my boot flew gracefully over his head and landed with a dull thud outside. He was still giggling like a little girl as he ran off. I wasn't quick enough to throw the second boot at his face. I snorted in frustration and downed the coffee in one shot. "Ow." It was hot. After a quick change of clothes and fixing my hair up so I could hide it under my now blood-stained hat, I emerged from the tent with my rolled up bedroll and old clothes, ready to find my left boot and get on with the day. I quickly put it on and strapped my stuff to my horse's saddle.

Breakfast had already been served and cleaned up, so I had to make due with a bit of stale bread and another cup of coffee right before we hit the road. I mostly dozed during the ride back, inhabiting that headspace somewhere between dream and reality and finding it quite pleasurable. Before I knew it, Skyhold loomed ominously in the distance. I smiled dreamily to myself.

I couldn't wait to have a fucking bath.

* * *

I'mma end it there, because I'm tired of typing words. Let me know if it doesn't make sense, because I may or may not have been quite inebriated while writing most of this...

Random thing: does anyone else miss those "What do the characters from (insert game/movie/book/whatever title here) think of you!" quizzes from Quizilla? Those were my favourite. Now I'm sad.


	17. Bathing before revenge

CH 17: In which necessary bathing occurs. Finally.

There was a small group of people waiting for us as we approached the gates to the hold proper. Stable hands to tend to the horses, servants to whisk personal belongings back to their owners' rooms, and general bystanders milling about uselessly with glances that ranged from curious to envious. I begrudgingly forced myself to follow the others up the stone steps to the bailey, keeping far enough back to hopefully avoid attention.

As soon as the soles of my boots had touched the ground within Skyhold's walls, all I wanted was to soak in a bath. The longer it took for that to happen, the angrier I got. As I got to the top of the stairs heard heavy footsteps on the second staircase that lead to the hall, and voices calling out in greeting.

"Welcome back, Inquisitor." Josie purred. There was a faint scratching noise as she most likely noted something on that clipboard she always carried with her. "I trust everything went well?"

"Splendidly!" Lavellan chirped back. "We'll give you the full run down in the war room. You received the message I sent, Leliana?"

"Yes, and Josie assures me that everything is prepared as per your instructions." The spymaster responded smoothly. "But you seem to be missing someone..."

I flattened myself against the stone wall and glanced up at the archway above me like I could see through it and observe the people standing there. Lavellan let out a soft grunt, and I could hear her feet shuffle about a bit.

"She was right behind us..."

"I'm sure she just escaped to her room." Varric chucked. "I don't think being in the field agrees with our Princess." He projected louder than was necessary...he definitely knew I was still there. There was a brief chorus of feminine chuckles, along with Cassandra's scoff, before they all made their was back into the hall. I waited until I couldn't hear their footsteps any longer and let out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding before turning to continue on my way to my quarters. I only made it a step before I ran directly into someone I hadn't noticed was there. I took a deep breath and sighed.

"Hello, Dorian." My voice was muffled, as my face was still pressed against the cloth of his robes. He wrapped his arms around me and gave me a tight squeeze.

"Our adventurer returns! Tell me, did you enjoy your time out in the real world? See some sights? Break some hearts?" He pulled back to look at me, grasping me by the shoulders. I watched as the smile slid off his face as he got a look at mine. _Here we go..._ "What happened?"

I felt like a child being caught doing something bad by their parents. I diverted my gaze, suddenly paying a lot of attention to a small clump of weeds growing to my right. "An arrow."

"What do you mean, _an arrow_?"

"I was hanging out in this bar in Redclliffe, when suddenly this arrow came in and threatened me with a knife. Wanted all my money. Cut me to make sure I knew it was serious."

He gave me a small shake and frowned darkly. "This is no laughing matter. Do you have any idea how..." He let go of my shoulders and stood for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he gathered his thoughts. "No point worrying about that right now. We'll simply have to cross that bridge when we get to it. I have a few choice words for that dwarf..." He mumbled a few things in Tevene before returning his attention to me. "You're alright, though. Right?"

"Why is everyone acting like I lost an eye, or a limb? I have a cut on my face. I am fine." I pushed his hand away as he reached for my face. "Seriously. Leave it."

"If I had been there, I-"

"No. Stop. Stop it. Shut up." I pointed at him threateningly. "I swear to the Maker's empty fucking throne that if I hear that entire self-indulgent rant one more time, I am going to lose. My. Ever. Loving. _Shit._ " I accidentally spit a bit with the last word. I didn't even feel bad. Dorian flinched slightly, looking more than a little awkward, and took a step back.

"Let's just take a moment to calm down, shall we?"

It took a concerted effort on my part to not screech incoherently in his face. "Calm? Yeah, I can fucking do calm. I'm gonna calm my ass all the way up to my room. _Right now._ Buh-bye."

"You should probably-"

I ignored him as I walked away, flipping him the bird over my shoulder without looking back. If one more person start up with the 'if only I was there' speech again, I was going to execute a perfect fucking swan dive right into the deep end. I rubbed my left temple as the dull throb of a headache made itself known, succeeding at looking miserable enough to not initiate contact with. I dashed up the stone stairs just outside the tavern, ignoring the curious glance scout Harding threw my way, and practically sprinted into my room, slamming the door behind me and locking it. I threw myself across the room to the other door, which I promptly locked as well before I pressed my back against it.

I finally had a chance to relax. I closed my eyes and let my head hang for a moment as the stress slowly left my body, leaving aches and exhaustion behind. A soft, cool breeze blew through the slit windows, and a soft chiming followed.

That was weird.

I opened my eyes and scanned the area for the source, which turned out to be a small plant. This was _really_ weird. It sat on top of my dresser, just in front of one of the windows. Every time the breeze blew, the delicate bell-shaped flowers swayed and chimed lightly.

That fucker was going right out the window as soon as bed time rolled around.

I shuffled over to poke at it a bit and noticed a folded note stuck under the pot, which was a glazed ceramic horror of ostentatious design. I wasn't surprised to see Vivienne's writing.

 _A homecoming gift in celebration of your very first foray into Thedas proper. It's called crystal grace. They were all the rage in Orlais a few seasons ago. I figured they'd fit right in with your wardrobe._

I carefully refolded the note and set it down on top of the dresser, pushing it slowly toward the wall with my index finger until it fell into the crack between the wood and the stone with a satisfying 'swish'. I allowed myself a small smile of satisfaction before turning to see what else was new.

There was a tub. That was new. It sat there, as tubs are wont to do, full of hot, steaming water. I stared at it a moment, feeling quite disturbed at my failure to notice something that obvious. There was a plain wooden tray on the floor beside it, which seemed to hold a small selection of soaps and oils. There was another note with a particular bar of soap purposefully set atop it. I plucked it out from under the bar and unfolded it, pursing my lips as the sight of Vivienne's graceful handwriting once again met my eyes.

 _I recommend the lavender, dear. It's commonly used as a relaxation aid, especially for sleep. While your personality already does a fine job of that, it never hurts to have an extra edge._

The sun was getting low in the sky, and while the rich, golden sunlight did a fine enough job of illuminating everything in a rather soothing way, it wouldn't be so for long. I used the note to help light the oil lamp on my desk before I shed all my clothes like they were on fire and slowly sank into the hot water.

It was like sliding into heaven. I let out a low groan of relief as the heat already helped to soothe all the aches and pains. I rested my head on the back of the tub, eyes half closed, and allowed myself a few moments to simply unwind and relax before turning my attention to the bottles sitting on the small tray beside me. I grabbed each of them, one by one, and gave them a delicate sniff. There were four in total. The first was a bright floral, which I quickly returned to the tray in distaste. _Too_ flowery. The second was a sweet, powdery musk. Not bad, but not quite what I was looking for. The third was a warm citrus spice blend. Pretty good. I almost went with that one, but decided to check the last one, just to be thorough. I uncorked it and took a light sniff before shoving it under my nose and inhaling as deeply as I could. It smelled _delicious_ , like a blend of honey, vanilla, cinnamon and cloves.

I wanted to live in that smell. I wanted that smell to be my _life_.

But...what exactly was it? I sat up, perplexed, and carefully poured a few drops into the palm of my hand. Then I added water and rubbed my hands together. There were no bubbles, so it likely wasn't soap. Was it just to add a nice scent to the bathwater? Was I supposed to put it on after the bath, like a skin moisturizer? So many questions, and nobody to ask! Why didn't Vivienne write a snide note about _that_?

There wasn't much I could do at the moment. I replaced the oil on the tray and decided to ask Josephine the next time I saw her. Each of the bottles seemed to be paired with a small bar of soap,, so I grabbed the one in front of the spiced vanilla oil and took a sniff. My hypothesis was confirmed. It matched the scent.

At least I knew what to do with soap. I grabbed the coarse washcloth that had been set on the edge of the tub and got to scrubbin'. I had to use the soap to wash my hair as well, which wasn't ideal but was better than the alternative of not washing it. I figured I could add a drop of the oil to the ends of my hair as a sort of conditioner. If it ended up making my hair look oily, at least I would still smell amazing. And I generally wore my hair up anyway, so no big deal. The bandages that Solas had given me were easy enough to remove when wet, so it slid off my face easily from the steam and splashing. I tossed it to the side. I'd deal with that later. I was unsure what to do about the wound, however.

I had yet to look at it myself. Solas' magical first aid in the field hadn't done much other than stem the bleeding, which was more than I could have done on my own in that amount of time. And the bandages had kept it clean and prevented infection from setting in while we were on the road. After taking a shaky breath, I slowly raised my fingers to my cheek and ran them over the wound.

It was more itchy than tender, and I winced slightly as my touch made the itch flair up and ache a bit. The cut started on my cheek, equidistant from the bottom of my right eye and the corner of my mouth. It angled up slightly and ended at my hairline, and was cut the deepest by the outside corner of the eye. I could feel where the skin had split, leaving an open gash, noticeably widest at that point. Figuring I was pressing my luck as far as avoiding wound contamination went, I quickly forced my hand back under the water and away from my face, letting my imagination paint the visual picture based on the tactile information it had received. My heart fluttered in my chest.

I was going to have a badass facial scar. I had always wanted one, and now I was going to have one. I resisted the urge to squeal in excitement and resorted instead to wiggling around happily. The water sloshed in the tub, the small bits that escaped making a wet slapping noise as it hit the stone floor. The noise made me settle down and giggle to myself.

The sun's light was waning, and the water was beginning to feel cool. It was time to get on with things. I reluctantly climbed out of the lukewarm water and, after a short and very chilly search, wrapped myself in the fluffy towel left behind the head of the tub. I took a moment to warm up, then made my way over to my wardrobe and put on a fresh pair of clothes, depositing the towel beside the tub where I had splashed onto the floor. I flopped face-up onto the bed and let out a content sigh, feeling my eyelids grow heavy. The lantern was still lit, and cast a warm, soft glow. I should have extinguished it, but I was comfortable, and my limbs felt heavier than usual. I could feel myself falling asleep, lulled by the familiar sounds of the tavern's patrons carrying on after a long day of work, and the occasional clanks of metal as one of the watch wandered by during their patrols of the battlements. It all sounded very muffled and distant.

The knock at my door, by contrast, was almost painfully sharp. I sat up with a start and paused, my ear cocked toward the door. Did I dream it, or was someone actually knocking? I waited a few moments. There was another knock. Wasn't a dream. It wasn't coming from the tavern side, at least, so it likely wasn't a lost drunk looking for the latrines again. I forced myself to get up and stumbled over to the door, the clarity of the shock having worn off and leaving me groggy. I pulled the door open with some effort and blinked slowly before raising my eyes from Cullen's breatplate to his face, letting out a drawn-out, dull-sounding 'hmmmmm?' as I went.

He took a deep breath and paused, looking distracted for a moment, before re-pressing his lips into a thin, unimpressed line. "You missed the debriefing."

I sniggered under my breath, but was too sleepy to make the obvious joke. "Was it really necessary for me to be there? Wait, let me make my official contribution right now: what they said." I pushed myself away from the door frame to stand straight, and crossed my arms. "I'm quite sure that the Inquisitor-"

"Maker's breath..." He breathed, his expression changing from irritation to alarm as he gently grabbed my chin and turned the right side of my face toward the light inside my room. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

"A templar archer." He released his hold, an agonized look briefly crossing his face before he could prevent it. "He's dead. He was the only hostile force we came across during the entire trip, and they put him down like a sick dog."

"Good." He spat, sneering. "He got what he deserved."

"Maybe. At least I get an awesome facial scar out of the whole ordeal!" I grinned for a moment. "But I also had to spend an inordinate amount of time listening to people go on about how it was somehow their fault it happened, which was more annoying than you'd think. So there's the downside."

"An awesome facial scar?" Cullen echoed, staring at me incredulously. I shrugged.

"Yeah! I fucking _love_ facial scars. They're just so... _sexy_." I smiled dreamily, my eyesight lingering on the scar on his lip a little too long before I realized what I was doing. I quickly straightened my back and cleared my throat, forcing myself to look off in another direction. "Hm. Yeah. That wasn't awkward at all." I looked back at him and felt my cheeks get warm as he grinned at me in amusement. I reached for the door, not taking my eyes off of him, and slowly began to close it. "So...I'm going to sleep now. Goodnight."

"We'll talk more about your trip tomorrow." He managed to say before I closed the door completely, leaning as the gap in the door grew smaller and smaller. I turned to reset my back against the wood and sighed, fairly certain that I had just had one of those conversations that haunt you for the rest of your life. The sort that wake you up in the middle of the night, your stomach twisting with embarrassment as you recall the details.

Because I needed more of those.

I wandered to the desk the lantern was on and retrieved my only elastic hair tie from it, and held it up reverently. One day, it would snap and leave me behind in this cold, cruel, elastic-less world to fend for myself. I prayed for at least one more day of use as I drew my hair up into a ponytail. Then I took a moment to peer into the small mirror there, curiosity getting the better of me. It looked worse than it felt. It looked raw. The outer edges had scabbed over nicely, but the middle still held the unpleasant sheen of raw, rended flesh. I poked the uninjured surrounding flesh upward and frowned as the wound oozed slightly at the deepest point. The fluid seemed clear, though, so it was likely fine. I stuck out my tongue in disgust and backed away from my reflection. Nobody said getting an awesome scar would be so _gross_.

After looking at it, I wasn't okay with leaving it uncovered, so I threw on my coat and slipped out of my room, hoping that Solas was still in his usual spot in the rotunda. Thankfully, he was, and I told him about the water trick, which made the application of the bandage much easier.

"It's already healing quite well." He remarked as he fixed the bandage in place. "You shouldn't need to cover it any longer in a few days' time."

"Excellent. I want to show this bad boy off. Get me some street cred."

Solas looked at me quizzically, but didn't ask. "Come tomorrow evening for a new bandage, and we'll see how the healing progresses. I don't foresee any complications."

"Good. Complications are never good, medically speaking." He ceased poking at my face and nodded. "Thanks again, Solas. See you later." I quickly made my way back to my room and, feeling safe in the knowledge that no dirt or creepy things could move into my flesh crevasse overnight, fell asleep.

* * *

Thanks for reading!

If you feel inclined, please leave a review. I always enjoy hearing your thoughts and suggestions!


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